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THECHARMO 


SCANDINAVl 


FRANCIS  E.CLARK 
SYDNEY  A.CLARK 


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THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 


t ,  e   e    tS  c     ,e «  ' 
c'  ce    e«  e  c«  ?  «e' 


The  Old  Borgund  Stave-kirke. 

Frontispiece.    See  page  314. 


THE  CHARM 
OF  SCANDINAVIA 


BY 

FRANCIS  E.  CLARK 

AND 

SYDNEY  A.  CLARK 


ILLUSTRATED 


»  *    »  ,t» 


*    »  »    * 

^       *    »  »       • 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY 

1918 


e5 


Copyright,  IQ14, 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company. 


All  rights  reserved 


•  •••      •  ■    •  ••  • 

•  ••••••  «•«•••  •    • 

•  •••'•••  '  ••  •     •  • 

•  •  ••••••    •••••• 


DEDICATED    TO 

JUDICIA 

F.  E.  C. 

S.  A.  C. 

^X 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

WHILE  this  book  is  largely  based  upon  personal 
observation  in  the  countries  described,  the  au- 
thors have  taken  pains  to  consult  many  recent  and 
some  older  authors  who  have  written  about  Scandinavia, 
that  they  might  become  familiar  with  the  history  and 
customs  of  the  countries  which  a  traveler  could  not 
otherwise  so  readily  understand. 

Among  these  authorities  may  be  mentioned  Paul  Du 
Chaillu's  work  on  ''The  Viking  Age";  Boyesen's  "His- 
tory of  Norway'^  in  the  ''Story  of  the  Nations"  series, 
a  most  excellent  and  informing  book,  as  interesting 
as  it  is  accurate;  Goodman's  "The  Best  Tour  in  Nor- 
way"; F.  M.  Butlin's  recent  valuable  book,  "Among 
the  Danes";  "Swedish  Life  in  Town  and  Coimtry,"  by 
Oscar  G.  von  Heidenstam ;  Emil  Svenson,  Holger  Ros- 
man,  Gimnar  Anderson,  and  C.  G.  Lawins,  who  have 
combined  to  write  a  handbook  about  Sweden's  history, 
industries,  social  systems,  art,  etc. 

We  should  like  to  acknowledge  especial  indebtedness 
to  a  book  by  Hon.  W.  W.  Thomas,  entitled  "  Sweden 
and  the  Swedes."  No  American  has  written  so  sym- 
pathetically about  the  Swedes  from  a  long  and  intimate 
knowledge  of  them  as  Mr.  Thomas,  who  as  Consul, 
United  States  Minister,  and  private  citizen  has  spent 
nearly  half  a  century  among  them.     This  book,  like 


viii  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Ernest  Young's  admirable  volume  on  Finland,  has  been 
used  chiefly,  as  have  the  other  authorities,  to  confirm, 
modify,  or  correct  our  own  impressions. 

Since  this  book  is  the  result  of  more  than  one  journey 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Scandinavia,  the 
dates  appended  to  the  different  letters  do  not  neces- 
sarily refer  to  the  time  they  were  written,  but  rather 
to  the  season  and  the  part  of  the  country  described. 

In  all  essential  particulars  the  book  is  a  record  of 
the  actual  experiences  that  brought  the  authors  under 
the  spell  of  Scandinavia.  They  hope  this  story  of  the 
sturdy,  liberty-loving  peoples  may  impart  to  the  reader 
something  of  the  same  charm. 

F.  E.  C. 

S.  A.  C. 


BY  WAY  OF  EXPLANATION 

(An  introduction  which  the  authors,  earnestly  but  with 
becoming  modesty,  ask  their  readers  to  peruse,  that 
the  scheme  of  the  book  may  be  imderstood.) 

"pHELLIPS  and  Ayhner  had  engagements  which  re- 
^  quired  them  to  take  long  journeys  in  Sweden  and 
Norway,  Denmark  and  Finland,  and  a  friendly  discus- 
sion arose  as  to  the  relative  beauties  and  merits  of  these 
countries.  Ayhner  upheld  the  charms  of  Norway  and 
Denmark  with  youthful  vehemence,  and  Phillips,  with 
equal  vigor,  asserted  the  superiority  of  Sweden  and 
Finland.  Judicia,  to  whom  they  appealed,  suggested 
that  each  one,  while  on  his  journey,  write  her  full  and 
interesting  accounts  of  the  things  in  Scandinavia  that 
charmed  them  most,  and  she  would  then  render  her 
decision.  But,  the  letters  written,  she  begged  the 
question  by  proposing  that  the  letters  be  published, 
and  each  reader  decide  for  himself.  The  writers  agreed, 
and  "The  Charm  of  Scandinavia"  is  the  result. 


"  To  the  northward  stretched  the  desert j 
How  far  I  Jain  would  know; 
So  at  last  I  sallied  forth, 
And  three  days  sailed  due  norths 
As  far  as  the  whale  ships[go. 

"  The  days  grew  longer  and  longer  y 

Till  they  became  as  one, 
And  northward  through  the  haze 
I  saw  the  sullen  blaze 

Of  the  red  midnight  sun" 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 

Page 
Phillips  Writes  of  Sweden  and  Finland  ....        i 

PART  II 
Alymer  Writes  of  Norway  and  Denmark    ...     175 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

The  Old  Borgund  Stave-kirke Frontispiece 

Facing  Page 

Map  of  Scandinavia i 

Skikjoring,  a  Highly  Enjoyable  Sport 8 

Skate  Sailing,  a  Favorite  Sport  in  Sweden 8 

The  Royal  Palace,  Stockholm i6 

Tea  House  on  Banks  of  Malar 20 

Some  Girls  of  Dalecarlia 34 

Where  Gustavus  Adolphus  Rests  among  Hard- Won 

Battle  Flags 42 

A  Typical  Swedish  Landscape  in  Winter .46 

Reindeer  and  Lapps  from  North  Sweden 66 

Lion-Guarded    Statue  of    Charles   XIII,   in    King's 

Garden,  Stockholm 74 

The  Castle  at  Upsala 86 

The  Locks,  Borenshult,  Gota  Canal 96 

The  Gorge  of  the  Gota  at  Trolhatten 100 

Rums  of  St.  Nikolaus  Cathedral,  Visby,  Gotland  .    .  no 

Interior  of  a  Finnish  Cottage 136 

In  Finnish  Lakeland 144 

In  Eastern  Finland 150 

Fish  Harbor,  Helsmgfors .  164 

Copenhagen  Exchange 182 

Watch  Parade  in  Amalienborg  Square 196 

The  Splendor  of  Tivoli  on  a  Gala  Night  in  Simimer  .  196 


xiv  LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

Faonq  Fags 

Frederiksborg  Castle,  Copenhagen 208 

Trondhjem  Cathedral 250 

On  the  Sognef  jord 256 

Ski  Jumping 260 

The  Railroad  between  Bergen  and  Christiania ....  268 

Bergen,  Northeast  from  Laksevaag 278 

Across  the  Glassy  Geirangerf  jord 286 

German  Battleships  in  Norwegian  Waters 292 

A  Stolkjaerre 296 

Fishermen  Arranging  their  Nets  at  Balestrand  on  the 

Sognefjord 300 

Three  Little  Belles  of  the  Arctic  at  Tromso      ....  304 

The  Hardanger  Glacier  and  Rembesdal  Lake  ....  308 

View  from  Hammerfest 310 


PHILLIPS  WRITES   OF  SWEDEN 
AND   FINLAND 


THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

PHILLIPS  WRITES  OF  SWEDEN  AND 
FINLAND 

FIRST  LETTER 

la  which  Phillips  descants  on  his  route  to  Scandinavia  from  Berlin; 
on  the  gastronomic  delights  of  a  Swedish  railway  restaurant;  on 
the  lavish  comfort  and  economy  as  well  as  the  safety  of  travel 
in  Sweden;  on  the  quiet  charms  of  the  scenery  in  southern 
Sweden,  as  well  as  on  the  well-earned  social  position  and  inde- 
pendence of  the  Swedish  farmer. 

Stockbolm,  January  i. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

You  have  brought  this  upon  yourself,  you  know,  for 
it  was  your  proposition  that  Ayhner  and  I  should  try 
to  make  you  feel  the  charm  of  Scandinavia  as  we  have 
felt  it.  But  do  not  suppose  that  we  are  going  to  enter 
upon  a  contest  of  wits  in  order  to  make  our  respective 
coimtries  shine  upon  the  written  page,  or  that  we  are 
going  to  indulge  in  high-flown  descriptions.  We  shall 
try  to  tell  you  of  things  as  we  see  them;  of  the  peasant 
in  his  low-thatched  roof,  who  is  as  interesting  as  the 
king  in  his  palace.  We  may  not  even  think  it  beneath 
our  dignity  to  tell  you  of  the  Smorgasbord,  and  of  the 
different  kinds  of  cheese  of  many  colors  which  grace 
the  breakfast  table,  for  all  these  different,  homely,  com- 
monplace things  enter  into  the  spell  of  Scandinavia. 


2  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

As  you  know,  we  started  on  this  long  northern  journey 
at  Berlin.  This  trip  has  been  robbed  of  all  its  terrors, 
since  keen  competition  has  compelled  the  railway  and 
steamboat  companies  to  exchange  the  little  Dampfschiff, 
little  bigger  than  tug-boats,  which  used  to  connect  Ger- 
many with  Scandinavia,  for  great  ferry  steamers,  which 
take  within  their  capacious  maws  whole  railway  trains, 
so  that  now  we  can  go  to  sleep  in  Berlin,  in  a  very  com- 
fortable sofwagtij  and  wake  up  the  next  morning  on 
Swedish  soil,  with  no  consciousness  of  the  fact  that  in 
the  middle  of  the  night  we  had  a  four  hours'  voyage 
across  a  bit  of  blue  sea  which  is  often  as  stormy  as  the 
broad  Atlantic  itself. 

You  remember  that  I  wrote  you  about  a  former 
journey  across  this  same  bit  of  water  during  an  equi- 
noctial gale,  how  our  boat  was  tossed  about  Hke  a  cork, 
how  the  port  was  stove  in,  and  I  was  washed  out  of  nay 
bimk.  Well,  last  night  I  was  reminded  of  that  former 
journey  by  contrast,  for  I  never  knew  when  we  were 
trundled  aboard  ship  at  Sassnitz,  or  when  we  were 
trundled  on  to  dry  land  again  at  Trelleborg.  I  was  sorry 
to  cross  the  island  of  Riigen  in  the  night,  for  this  bit 
of  wind-swept,  sea-washed  land  will  always  be  asso- 
ciated for  us  with  '' Elizabeth '^  and  her  adventures, 
though  to  be  sure  her  German  garden  was  not  on  Riigen, 
but  on  the  mainland  near  by. 

However,  if  I  did  not  know  when  we  passed  from 
Germany  to  Sweden,  it  was  very  evident  that  we  were 
in  a  different  coimtry  when  the  window  curtain  was 
raised  in  the  morning,  and  the  porter  informed  me 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  3 

deferentially,  in  his  musical  Swedish  voice,  that  ^^cafe 
and  Smorhrdd''  would  be  served  in  the  compartment  if 
I  wished.  Everything  is  different  here.  This  Httle  four 
hours*  voyage  in  the  middle  of  the  night  seems  to  have 
put  a  wide  ocean  between  the  experiences  of  to-day 
and  yesterday.  The  brick  houses  are  exchanged  for 
wooden  ones.  The  pine  trees  which  abound  in  the  sandy 
wastes  north  of  Berlin  have  been  exchanged  for  grace- 
ful white  birches,  sprinkled  with  spruce  and  fir.  In- 
stead of  the  gutturals  of  the  south  we  hear  the  open, 
flowing  vowels  of  the  north.  Even  the  signs  with  which 
the  railway  stations  are  so  abundantly  plastered  that 
one  has  difficulty  in  finding  their  names,  are  different 
from  those  in  Germany,  and  our  attention  is  called  to 
wholly  different  brands  of  beer,  whisky,  and  margarine. 

One  thing  you  will  rejoice  in,  I  am  sure,  Judicia,  and 
that  is,  that  I  am  assured  by  every  responsible  authority 
that  railway  accidents  are  almost  unknown  in  Sweden, 
or  at  least  that  the  -risk  is  quite  infinitesimal.  It  is 
said  that  even  in  America,  which  has  such  an  evil  rep- 
utation for  railway  smashups,  you  can  travel  by  rail 
on  the  average  a  distance  one  hundred  and  fifty-six 
times  around  the  world  without  getting  a  scratch.  I 
wonder  how  many  thousands  of  times  one  would  have 
to  travel  twenty-five  thousand  miles  in  Sweden  before 
the  train  would  run  off  the  track  or  bump  into  another 
train.  One  would  think  that  the  railway  accident  in- 
surance companies  in  Sweden  would  get  very  Httle 
business. 

I  concluded  not  to  accept  the  porter's  kind  invitation 


4  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

to  ^^cafe  and  Smorbrodj^'  for  I  wanted  to  indulge  at  the 
first  opportunity  in  a  genuine  Swedish  railway  restau- 
rant. Think  of  anticipating  with  pleasure  a  railway 
restaurant  breakfast  in  America  or  England! 

I  waited  for  breakfast  until  we  reached  Alfvesta, 
well  on  toward  noon,  and  then  made  the  most  of  the 
twenty-five  minutes  generously  allowed  for  refresh- 
ments. "Can  this  be  a  railway  restaurant?"  a  stranger 
would  say  to  himself.  Here  is  a  bountifully  filled  table 
covered  with  all  sorts  of  viands,  fish,  flesh,  and  fowl, 
and  good  red  herring  besides.  And  around  this  tempt- 
ing table  a  number  of  gentlemen,  hats  and  overcoats  laid 
aside,  are  wandering  nonchalantly,  as  though  they  had 
the  whole  day  at  their  disposal;  picking  up  here  a  ball 
of  golden  butter  and  there  a  delicate  morsel  of  cheese; 
from  another  dish  a  sardine,  or  a  slice  of  tongue  or  cold 
roast  beef,  or  possibly  some  appetizing  salad.  If  you 
would  do  in  Sweden  as  the  Swedes  do  and  not  declare 
your  foreign  extraction,  you,  too,  will  wander  around 
this  table  in  a  most  careless  and  casual  way,  and,  when 
you  have  heaped  your  plate  with  the  fat  of  the  land, 
and  spread  a  piece  of  crisp  rye  flatbread  thick  with 
fresh  and  fragrant  butter,  when  you  have  poured  out 
a  cup  ■  of  delicious  coffee  reduced  to  exactly  the  right 
shade  of  amber  by  abundant  cream,  then  you  take  your 
spoil  to  a  side  table  near  by  and  try  to  feel  as  much  at 
leisure  in  eating  it  as  your  Swedish  fellow  passengers 
appear  to  be. 

But  this  is  only  the  beginning.  This  is  just  to  whet 
the  appetite  for  what  is  to  come.    I  coimted  twenty- 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  5 

seven  dififerent  dishes  on  the  Smorgasbord  table  from 
which  one  might  choose;  or  one  might  take  something 
from  each  of  the  twenty-seven  if  he  so  desired.  Then 
comes  the  real  meal:  fish  and  potatoes,  meat  and  vege- 
tables of  several  different  kinds,  salad,  puddings,  and 
cheese  —  and  to  all  of  these  viands  you  help  yourself. 
No  officious  waiter  hovers  over  you,  impatient  for  your 
order  and  eager  to  snatch  away  your  plate  before  the 
last  mouthful  is  finished,  an  eagerness  only  equaled  by 
his  rapacious  desire  for  the  expected  tip.  No,  the 
only  official  in  the  room  is  the  modest  young  lady 
who  sits  at  a  table  in  the  far  corner,  and  who  seems 
to  take  no  notice  of  your  coming  and  going.  If  you 
get  up  a  dozen  times  to  help  yourself  from  either  end 
of  the  table;  if  you  pour  out  half  a  dozen  cups  of 
coffee,  or  indulge  in  a  quart  of  milk  from  the  capa- 
cious pitchers,  it  seems  to  be  no  concern  of  hers. 
Her  only  duty  is  to  sit  behind  the  table  and  take 
your  money  when  you  get  through,  and  a  very  small 
amount  she  takes  at  that. 

If  you  have  "put  a  knife  to  your  throat,"  and  have 
contented  yourself  with  coffee  and  cakes,  the  charge 
will  be  fifty  ore,  or  thirteen  and  a  half  cents.  If  you  have 
helped  yourself,  however  liberally,  only  from  the  cold 
dishes,  the  Smorgasbord,  the  charge  will  be  seventy-five 
ore,  or  twenty  cents,  while  even  the  most  extravagant 
meal,  where  everything  hot  and  cold  is  sampled,  would 
be  but  two  kronor,  or  a  trifle  over  fifty  cents. 

I  shall  not  tell  you,  Judicia,  how  much  I  paid  for  that 
particular  breakfast,  for  I  know  that  your  first  remark 


6  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

would  be:  "All  that  in  twenty-five  minutes,  and  you  a 
Fletcherite!" 

What  strikes  the  uninitiated  traveler  with  wonder  and 
amaze  on  reaching  Sweden  is  the  lavishness  of  every- 
thing and  its  cheapness.  On  this  table  in  Alfvesta,  for 
instance,  there  were  great  mounds  of  butter  nearly  a 
foot  high,  instead  of  the  little  minute  dabs  that  we  see 
on  most  continental  tables,  with  which  you  are  supposed 
to  merely  smear  your  bread.  The  big  joints  of  beef, 
the  great  legs  of  mutton,  the  bright  silver  pudding 
dishes  of  capacious  size,  all  seem  to  say  to  the  tourist: 
"Help  yourself,  and  don't  be  stingy."  But  elegance  is 
not  sacrificed  to  abimdance.  Everything  is  neat  and 
clean.  The  silver  is  polished  to  the  last  degree.  The 
glasses  are  crystal  clear.  You  do  not  have  to  scrub 
your  plate  with  your  napkin,  as  is  the  custom  at  some 
continental  hotels,  and  the  cooking  is  as  delicious  as 
the  food  is  abundant. 

Am  I  dwelling  too  long  upon  these  merely  temporal 
and  gastronomic  features  of  Sweden?  Do  you  remind 
me  that  the  charm  of  a  country  does  not  depend  upon 
what  we  shall  eat  or  what  we  shall  drink?  I  reply  that 
the  first  thing  for  a  traveler,  Hke  an  army,  to  consider, 
is  the  base  of  supplies.  What  famous  general  was  that 
who  made  the  immortal  remark  that  every  army 
marched  upon  its  stomach?  Why  is  not  that  equally 
true  of  a  traveler? 

But  though  the  dinner  table  is  one  of  the  initial  ex- 
periences in  Sweden,  it  does  not  often  need  to  be  de- 
scribed.   Ex  uno  disce  omnes,  and  from  this  one  meal 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  7 

you  may  learn  what  to  expect  from  Trelleborg  on  the 
south  to  Riksgransen,  some  twelve  hundred  miles 
farther  north,  the  Dan  and  Beersheba  of  Sweden.  At 
every  stopping-place,  large  or  small,  which  the  railway 
time-table  kindly  marks  with  a  diminutive  knife  and 
fork,  to  show  that  the  needs  of  the  inner  man  are  here 
met,  you  will  find  just  such  lavish,  well-cooked,  moder- 
ate-priced refreshments.  Indeed  the  favorite  English 
phrase,  "cheap  and  nahsty",  has  no  equivalent  in 
Swedish,  for  there  is  no  such  thing  known.  Cheapness 
does  not  imply  poor  quality  or  slatternly  service. 

You  are  reminded  of  this  fact  even  before  you  leave 
Berlin,  for  a  sleeping-car  berth  which  costs  more  than 
twelve  marks,  something  over  three  dollars  on  the  south 
side  of  BerHn,  costs  for  a  longer  distance  on  the  north 
side,  since  most  of  the  journey  is  to  be  in  Sweden,  less 
than  six  marks,  or  not  quite  one  half  as  much,  while 
the  compartments  are  even  more  comfortable  and  better 
fitted.  Yes,  dear  Judicia,  Scandinavia  is  the  country 
for  you  and  me  to  travel  in  as  well  as  for  the  very  few 
other  Americans,  who,  according  to  European  notions, 
are  not  millionaires. 

When  I  took  my  seat  again  after  breakfast  at  Alfvesta, 
in  the  comfortable  second-class  compartment,  we  were 
soon  flying,  as  rapidly  as  Swedish  trains  ever  fly,  which 
is  rarely  more  than  thirty  miles  an  hour,  through  the 
heart  of  southern  Sweden,  and  I  had  time  to  refresh  my 
memory  concerning  this  great  Scandinavian  peninsula, 
which,  as  some  people  think,  hangs  Hke  a  huge  icicle 
from  the  roof  of  the  world.    The  icicle  idea,  however,  is 


8  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

entirely  erroneous,  so  far  at  least  as  the  southern  part  of 
Sweden  and  Norway  go.  The  average  temperature  is 
about  that  of  Washington,  though  it  is  cooler  in  summer; 
and  very  often  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  west  coast, 
where  the  Gulf  Stream,  that  mighty  wizard  of  the  At- 
lantic, does  its  work,  there  is  little  snow  or  ice  from  one 
year's  end  to  another. 

This  southern  section  of  Sweden  is  called  Gothland, 
or,  Hterally,  the  Land  of  the  Gota  or  Goths,  a  name 
which  we  always  couple  with  the  Vandals.  Indeed,  one 
of  the  titles  by  which  the  King  of  Sweden  is  still  ad- 
dressed at  his  coronation  is  ^'Lord  of  the  Goths  and 
Vandals."  Truly  these  old  Goths  and  Vandals  were 
the  "scourge  of  God",  as  Attila  their  leader  was  called, 
when  they  sailed  away  in  their  great  viking  ships,  carry- 
ing their  conquests  as  far  as  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  and 
founding  colonies  and  kingdoms  along  all  the  shores  of 
Europe,  and  even  across  the  Mediterranean,  in  Africa. 

Scandinavia,  when  judged  by  its  square  miles,  is  cer- 
tainly no  mean  coimtry.  Sweden  alone,  which  claims 
a  Httle  more  than  half  of  the  great  peninsula,  is  as  large 
as  France  or  Germany,  and  half  as  large  again  as  all 
Great  Britain.  If  we  should  compare  Sweden  with  some 
of  our  own  more  familiar  boundaries,  we  should  see  that 
it  is  a  little  larger  than  CaHfornia,  and  not  unhke  that 
Golden  State  in  its  geographical  outlines.  We  should 
see  also  that  it  is  about  three  times  as  large  as  all  New 
England,  and  more  than  three  times  as  large  as  IlHnois. 

Before  I  finish  this  journey  I  shall  have  a  realizing 
sense  of  Sweden's  long-drawn-out  provinces,  for  it  takes 


■M| 

I         # 

fc^r*^***r§^^P 

if 

1  >*       »• 

a 

Skikjoring,  a  Highly  Enjoyable  Sport. 


Skate  Sailing,  a  Favorite  Sport  in  Sweden. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  9 

nearly  sixty  hours  of  continuous  railway  travel  to  go 
even  as  far  north  as  the  railway  will  carry  us. 

Gothland  in  the  south,  Svealand  in  the  center,  and 
Norrland  in  the  north  are  the  three  great  divisions 
of  Sweden,  the  latter  larger  than  the  other  two  put 
together. 

From  the  car  window  I  see  many  charming  sights, 
even  in  this  wintry  season.  Indeed  I  am  not  sure  that 
Sweden  is  not  quite  as  lovely  in  winter  as  in  summer. 
The  red  farmhouses,  half  buried  in  snow  (for  the  winter 
is  more  severe  now  that  we  are  getting  away  from  the 
coast);  the  great  stacks  of  hay  that  enable  the  patient 
cows  to  chew  the  cud  contentedly  through  the  long 
winter  days;  the  splendid  forests  of  white  birch,  the 
most  graceful  tree  that  grows;  the  ice-locked  lakes, 
and  the  rushing  streamlets  that  are  making  their  way 
to  the  Baltic  —  all  these  combine  to  give  us  a  landscape 
which  is  charming  in  the  extreme. 

I  suppose  that  Aylmer  will  surfeit  you  with  eloquent 
descriptions  of  far-reaching  fjords,  mighty  moimtains, 
and  abysmal  caiions  when  he  comes  to  write  about 
his  beloved  Norway,  but  I  am  sure  he  will  find  nothing 
more  peacefully  lovely  and  harmonious  than  the  farm- 
lands of  southern  and  central  Sweden.  These  are  the 
lands,  too,  which  raise  not  only  grass  and  turnips  and 
sugar  beets,  but  a  grand  crop  of  men  and  women,  who 
are  the  very  backbone  of  the  Swedish  commonwealth. 
More  than  eighty-five  per  cent  of  the  land  is  owned  and 
farmed  by  its  proprietors,  and  mostly  small  proprietors 
at  that.     Absentee  landlordism  is  little  known.     A 


lo  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

country  whose  people  thus  have  their  roots  in  the  soil 
has  little  fear  from  anarchists  and  revolutionists. 

These  peasant  proprietors,  as  they  are  called,  are  by 
no  means  the  dense  yokels  with  which  we  associate 
the  word  "peasant"  in  many  parts  of  Europe.  The 
peasants  of  Sweden  are  simply  farmers,  and  not  always 
small  farmers  at  that,  for  they  sometimes  own  hundreds 
of  acres.  They  are  farmers  who  enjoy  the  daily  news- 
papers and  the  monthly  magazines,  whose  children  all 
go  to  school,  and  who  can  aspire  to  the  imiversity  for 
their  sons  and  daughters,  if  they  so  elect.  They  are 
farmers  who  hold  the  balance  of  power  among  the  law- 
makers of  Sweden,  and  who  always  have  a  hundred  or 
more  of  their  own  number  in  the  Riksdag,  some  of  whom 
are  among  the  best  orators  and  debaters  in  the  Assem- 
bly. They  know  that  no  important  piece  of  legisla- 
tion to  which  they  are  opposed  can  ever  be  enacted  in 
Sweden,  and  they  are  as  proud  as  the  nobility  itself  of 
their  ancient  history,  and  more  tenacious  of  their  ancient 
privileges. 

Honorable  W.  W.  Thomas,  for  many  years  the  Ameri- 
can Minister  to  Sweden  and  Norway,  and  who  has 
written  entertainingly  concerning  the  people  of  the 
coimtry,  which  he  came  to  consider  his  adopted  land, 
tells  a  good  story  that  illustrates  the  independence  of 
the  Swedish  peasant.  It  is  worth  quoting  to  you,  as 
the  train  rushes  by  hundreds  of  just  such  peasant 
homes. 

"  Clad  in  homespun,  and  driving  a  rough  farm  wagon, 
this  peasant  pulled  up  at  a  post  station  in  the  west  of 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  ii 

Sweden.  There  were  but  two  horses  left  in  the  stable, 
and  these  he  immediately  ordered  to  be  harnessed  into 
his  wagon.  Just  as  they  were  being  hitched  up,  there 
rattled  into  the  courtyard  in  great  style  the  grand 
equipage  of  the  Governor  of  the  Province,  with  coach- 
man and  footman  in  Hvery.  Learning  the  state  of  affairs, 
and  wishing  to  avoid  a  long  and  weary  delay,  the  coach- 
man ordered  these  two  horses  to  be  taken  from  the 
peasant's  cart  and  harnessed  into  the  Governor's  car- 
riage, but  the  peasant  stoutly  refused  to  allow  this  to  be 
done. 

^'^What,'  said  the  Governor,  Mo  you  refuse  to  per- 
mit those  horses  to  be  harnessed  into  my  carriage?' 

"*Yes,  I  do,'  said  the  peasant. 

"'And  do  you  know  who  I  am,'  quoth  the  Governor, 
somewhat  in  a  rage;  'I  am  the  Governor  of  this  Prov- 
ince; a  Knight  of  the  Royal  Order  of  the  North  Star, 
and  one  of  the  chamberlains  of  his  Majesty  the  King.' 

"'Oh  ho,'  said  the  peasant,  'and  do  you,  sir,  know 
who  I  am?' 

He  said  this  in  such  a  bold  and  defiant  manner  that 
the  Governor  was  somewhat  taken  aback.  He  began 
to  think  that  the  fellow  might  be  some  great  personage 
after  all,  some  prince  perhaps,  traveling  in  disguise. 

"'No,'  said  he  in  an  irresolute  voice,  'I  do  not  know 
who  you  are.    Who  are  you?' 

"'Well,'  replied  the  peasant,  walking  up  to  him  and 
looking  him  firmly  in  the  eye,  'I'll  tell  you  who  I  am  — 
I  am  the  man  that  ordered  those  horses!' 

"After  this  there  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.    The 


12  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

peasant  quietly  drove  away  on  his  journey,  and  the 
Governor  waited  until  such  time  as  he  could  legally  pro- 
cure fresh  means  of  locomotion." 

As  I  said,  I  thought  of  this  characteristic  story  of 
peasant  independence  as  my  train  sped  by  many  a  com- 
fortable farmhouse,  whose  occupants,  I  have  no  doubt, 
would  defy  the  authority  of  the  governor,  or  of  the  king 
himself,  if  he  should  attempt  to  trample  upon  their 
rights. 

But  we  are  now  drawing  near  to  Sweden's  capital, 
and  perhaps  you  will  think  that  this  letter  is  quite 
long  enough  for  my  first  promised  installment  concern- 
ing the  charms  of  Sweden. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


SECOND  LETTER 

In  which  Phillips  lauds  Stockholm  as  the  most  beautiful  of  Euro- 
pean cities;  tells  the  tragic  story  of  the  royal  palace;  remarks 
casually  upon  the  superabimdance  of  telephones,  for  which 
Stockholm  is  famous ;  describes  the  Riksdag  and  the  medieval 
ceremony  of  opening  Parliament,  and  comments  briefly  on  the 
relations  of  Church  and  State  in  Sweden. 


Stockholm,  January  3. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

When  last  I  wrote  you,  if  I  remember  rightly,  I  was 
just  approaching  Stockholm,  after  the  six-hundred-mile 
journey  from  Berlin.  It  was  quite  dark,  and  for  that  I 
was  not  sorry,  for  Stockholm  is  so  brilliantly  Hghted  that 
it  is  almost  as  beautiful  by  night  as  by  day.  As  we  ap- 
proached, the  many  quays,  from  which  scores  of  Httle 
steamers  are  constantly  darting  to  and  fro,  were  all 
picked  out  by  globes  of  electric  light.  Old  Stockholm, 
climbing  the  hill  to  the  left,  looked  like  a  constellation 
of  stars  in  the  bright  heavens,  and  the  occasional  glimpses 
of  broad  streets  which  one  gets  as  he  approaches  the 
central  station  were  flooded  with  the  soft  glow  of  the 
incandescent  burners.  Nevertheless,  beautiful  as  was 
the  night  scene,  I  was  quite  impatient  for  the  morning 
light  to  reveal  the  glories  of  the  most  beautiful  capital 
of  Europe,  which  I  remembered  so  well,  but  was  none 
the  less  anxious  to  see  again. 

"The  most  beautiful  capital  in  Europe!"  did  I  hear 


14  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

you  say,  Judicia,  with  a  suspicion  of  skepticism  in  your 
rising  inflection?  ^'Have  you  forgotten  Paris,  and  Rome, 
and  Budapest,  and  Vienna?  Are  you  not  somewhat 
carried  away  by  your  desire  to  make  out  a  good  case  for 
Sweden?"  No,  I  cannot  plead  guilty  to  any  of  these 
charges,  which  I  am  sure  are  lurking  in  your  mind,  for 
ever  since  my  first  visit,  years  ago,  I  have  considered 
Stockholm,  for  beauty  of  situation,  for  freshness  and 
vigor,  and  (though  this  might  be  disputed)  a  certain 
originality  of  architecture,  not  only  in  the  first  rank  of 
cities,  but  the  first  in  the  first  rank.  To  be  sure,  it  is  not 
as  large  as  many  another  city,  but  bigness  is  not  beauty. 
It  has  not  the  picture  galleries  of  Florence,  or  the  an- 
tiquities of  London,  or  the  palaces  of  Paris,  but  it  has 
charms  all  its  own,  which,  in  my  opinion,  weave  about 
it  a  spell  which  no  other  city  possesses. 

The  morning  light  did  not  dissipate  the  impressions 
of  the  evening  before,  nor  the  happy  memories  of  the 
past,  for  I  found  that  Stockholm  had  improved  in  its 
architecture  since  my  last  visit,  though  its  glorious  situ- 
ation can  never  be  improved. 

Through  half  a  dozen  different  channels  the  waters  of 
the  great  lake  Malar  rush  to  join  the  Baltic,  for,  though 
the  lake  is  only  eighteen  inches  above  the  sea,  so  great 
is  the  volume  of  water  that  it  is  always  pressing  through 
the  narrow  channels  in  swirls  and  eddies,  and  it  dances 
forward  with  an  eager  joy  that  gives  one  a  sense  of 
marvelous  Hfe  and  abounding  vigor  and  seems  to  im- 
part its  character  to  the  whole  city.  Around  the 
city  on  one  side  are  the  stern,  fir-clad  promontories, 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  15 

the  great  lake  and  the  black  forests  to  the  west,  and 
one  can  seem  to  step  from  the  heart  of  nature^s 
wilds  into  the  heart  of  the  most  advanced  civilization. 
Out  toward  the  Baltic  on  the  east  is  an  archipelago 
forty  miles  in  length,  dotted  with  islands  and  headlands, 
smiUng  and  peaceful  in  summer,  ice-bound  and  storm- 
lashed  in  the  winter,  but  equally  beautiful  in  January 
or  June. 

The  first  building  that  strikes  the  eye  is  naturally  the 
royal  palace,  which,  I  must  say,  to  repubhcan  eyes,  looks 
square  and  somber  and  lacking  in  ornamentation,  but 
which  connoisseurs  in  palaces  say  is  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  in  Europe. 

Do  you  remember  my  writing  you  some  years  ago 
about  my  interview  with  good  Kling  Oscar  in  this  old 
palace?  After  waiting  in  the  pubHc  reception  room  for  a 
little  while  I  was  announced  by  the  lord  chamberlain 
and  stepped  into  a  little  room  leading  off  the  large  re- 
ception hall,  and  there,  all  alone,  stood  a  very  tall  and 
very  handsome  man  in  a  light  blue  military  uniform, 
with  two  or  three  jeweled  decorations  on  his  breast. 
This  was  Oscar  II,  by  the  grace  of  God,  King  of  Sweden 
and  Norway,  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals.  He  bowed  and 
smiled  with  a  most  winning  and  gracious  expression, 
and,  coming  forward,  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me 
to  a  seat  on  one  side  of  a  small  table,  on  the  other  side 
of  which  he  seated  himself.  I  do  not  think  it  was  the 
glamour  of  royalty  that  dazzled  my  eyes  when  I  wrote 
of  his  winning  smile.  Many  others  have  spoken  of  his 
charm  of  manner,  and  he  was  noted  as  being  the  most 


i6  THE  CHARM  OF^  SCANDINAVIA 

courtly,  affable,  and  gracious  monarch  that  sat  upon 
any  throne  of  Europe. 

But  alas,  the  good  king  has  died  since  my  last  visit 
to  Stockholm,  his  later  years  being  embittered  by  the 
partition  of  his  kingdom,  when  Norway  decided  to  set 
up  a  king  of  her  own.  But  though  kings  may  come  and 
kings  may  go,  the  grim  old  palace  which  has  harbored 
all  the  rulers  of  Sweden  for  eight  hundred  years  still 
stands  on  the  banks  of  the  tumultuous  Malar. 

When  the  palace  was  rebuilt,  or  restored,  some  two 
hundred  and  twenty  years  ago,  it  was  the  scene  of  a  most 
tragic  event.  In  1692  Charles  XI  decided  that  it  was 
time  to  remodel  the  old  home  of  the  Swedish  kings, 
which  had  already  stood  upon  that  spot  for  six  centuries. 
He  commanded  Tessin,  a  great  architect,  who  has  left 
his  impress  upon  Stockholm  and  all  Sweden,  to  rebuild 
the  palace.  Accordingly  the  architect  traveled  in  Italy 
and  France  and  England  to  make  a  study  of  the  best 
palaces  he  could  find.  When  his  plans  were  completed, 
he  showed  them  to  Louis  XIV  of  France,  who  was  so 
much  pleased  with  them  that  he  commanded  his  am- 
bassador to  Sweden  to  congratulate  Charles  XI  *'on 
this  beautiful  edifice  he  was  proposing  to  erect." 

But  Charles  XI  never  lived  to  see  the  plans  carried 
out.  He  died  after  the  work  had  been  well  begim,  and 
when  the  scaffoldings  surroimded  the  palace  on  every 
side.  The  work  of  reconstruction  was  of  course  inter- 
rupted while  the  king's  body  was  lying  in  state,  but  just 
before  the  funeral  procession  moved  out  of  the  palace  a 
fire  broke  out,  and  the  whole  edifice  was  destroyed,  save 


3      5  '   )    •"      3         1      )  5 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &*  Underwood,  N.  Y. 


The  Royal  Palace,  Stockholm. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  17 

the  great  walls,  which  are  standing  to  this  day.  With 
extreme  difficulty  the  king's  body  was  saved  and  carried 
into  the  royal  stables,  where  his  grandson,  a  lad  fifteen 
years  of  age,  who  was  destined  to  become  Charles  XII, 
one  of  the  most  famous  kings  of  Sweden,  had  taken 
refuge. 

A  picture  in  the  National  Museum  makes  the  scene 
live  over  again:  the  old  queen,  frightened  by  the  double 
catastrophe;  the  boy  king,  helping  his  frightened  grand- 
mother down  the  steps,  while  the  tongues  of  fire  leap 
out  at  them  from  behind;  the  courtiers  in  hot  haste  car- 
rying the  coffin  of  the  old  king,  while  the  Httle  princesses 
look  on  with  childish  interest,  scarcely  realizing  the 
gravity  of  the  situation. 

Again  the  great  architect  had  to  go  to  work  on  his 
task,  so  sadly  interrupted.  For  thirty  years  it  was  pur- 
sued, during  the  days  of  Sweden's  greatest  poverty,  and 
only  in  1754,  nearly  sixty  years  after  Tessin  began  his 
work  of  rebuilding,  was  it  completed,  and  nearly  thirty 
years  after  the  death  of  the  master  builder. 

The  palace  has  at  least  the  merit  of  commodiousness, 
for  we  are  told  that  "when  King  Oscar  celebrated  his 
Jubilee  in  1897,  all  his  guests,  including  more  than  twenty 
princes  and  half  as  many  princesses,  belonging  to  all  the 
thrones  of  Europe,  were  lodged  there  with  their  numer- 
ous suites.'^ 

But  your  republican  soul,  Judicia,  will  be  more  inter- 
ested in  some  of  the  other  buildings  of  Stockholm,  per- 
haps even  in  the  hideous  excrescence  which  towers  up 
above  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  and  which  shows  us  where 


i8  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  telephone  exchange  is  situated,  to  which  ten  thousand 
wires,  more  or  less  (I  did  not  count  them),  converge.  I 
should  think,  however,  that  it  would  require  at  least 
ten  thousand  wires  to  satisfy  the  rapacious  demands  of 
the  Stockholmers  for  telephone  service.  Every  hotel 
room,  even  in  the  modest  hostelries,  has  one,  and  most 
of  them  have  two  telephones,  a  city  telephone  and  a 
long-distance  one. 

In  every  Httle  park  and  open  space  are  two  telephone 
booths,  for  long  and  short  distances.  Stockholm,  with  a 
population  about  the  twentieth  part  of  greater  London, 
has  nearly  twice  as  many  telephones  as  the  British 
metropolis,  and  the  service  is  always  prompt,  cheap, 
and  obliging. 

Then  there  is  the  great  Lift,  a  conspicuous  feature  of 
Old  Stockholm,  which  hoists  passengers  in  a  jifFy  from 
the  level  of  the  Baltic  to  the  heights  of  the  old  town. 
That,  too,  would  interest  you,  Judicia,  for  I  remember 
your  strenuous  objections  to  hill-climbing. 

To  turn  from  structures,  useful  but  hideous,  to  one 
more  beautiful,  and,  shall  I  say,  less  useful?  there  is  the 
Riksdag,  a  modern  building  of  very  handsome  and  gen- 
erous proportions,  where  the  law-makers  of  Sweden  as- 
semble, and  where,  I  suppose,  rival  parties  fire  hot 
shot  at  one  another  as  freely  as  they  do  in  Washington 
or  London.  Every  year  the  Swedish  parliament  meets 
in  the  middle  of  January  and  closes  its  sessions  on  the 
fifteenth  of  May,  and  this  is  the  one  place  which  the 
king  may  not  enter,  as  one  of  the  guardians  of  the  Riks- 
dag proudly  informed  me.    Both  houses  of  Parliament 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  19 

go  to  him,  but  he  may  not  return  to  them.  At  the  open- 
ing of  Parliament,  the  legislators  assemble  in  the  palace, 
where  the  king  addresses  them,  and  the  medieval  cere- 
mony connected  with  this  function  is  worth  telling  you 
about. 

After  prayers  and  a  special  sermon  in  the  cathedral 
relating  to  the  duties  of  legislation  (a  religious  custom 
that  reminds  us  of  the  old  Election  Day  Sermon  of  the 
good  State  of  Massachusetts,  a  custom  now  unhappily 
abolished),  the  members  of  the  upper  and  lower  houses 
march  into  a  great  hall  in  the  palace,  the  speakers  of  the 
two  houses  leading  the  way,  and  take  their  seats  on 
either  side  of  the  throne.  This  throne  is  of  sohd  silver, 
on  a  raised  platform,  and  on  either  side  of  it  are  seats 
for  the  princes  and  members  of  the  royal  family.  The 
queen  and  princesses  sit  in  the  gallery,  surrounded  by 
members  of  the  court.  "All  sorts  and  conditions  of 
men  are  represented  —  bishops  and  country  clergymen, 
provincial  governors  and  landed  noblemen,  freehold 
peasants,  rural  schoolmasters,  imiversity  dons,  and  in- 
dustrial kings." 

We  are  reminded  of  the  past  history  of  Sweden  by  the 
uniforms  of  the  military  guards,  some  of  whom  are  in 
the  costume  of  Charles  XII,  and  others  in  that  of  Gus- 
tavus  III.  The  courtiers  are  arrayed  in  gorgeous  imi- 
forms,  and  their  breasts  blaze  with  their  many  decora- 
tions. After  the  guard  and  the  gentlemen-in-waiting 
come  the  princes,  in  the  march  to  the  throne  room,  and 
last  of  all  the  king  himself.  He  seats  himself  upon  the 
throne  and  commences  his  address,  which  always  begins 


20  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

with  the  words,  "Good  Sirs  and  Swedish  Men"  and 
ends  with  his  assurance  of  good  will  to  all. 

The  presidents  of  the  two  houses  respond  to  the  speech 
of  the  king.  The  heads  of  the  departments  read  their 
reports  and  present  their  budgets.  Then,  the  stately- 
ceremony  being  over,  the  gorgeous  procession  files  out 
in  the  same  order  in  which  it  came  in,  and  the  two 
houses  proceed  to  the  Parliament  Building  to  begin  the 
work  of  the  new  session. 

If  the  fad  that  prevailed  among  our  novelists  a  few 
years  ago  in  finding  titles  for  their  stories  should  ever 
reach  Sweden,  I  am  sure  that  there  would  be  a  novel 
called  "The  Man  from  Dalecarlia,"  for  he  is  certainly 
the  most  picturesque  figure  in  the  Riksdag.  In  the  midst 
of  the  sober,  black  coats  and  white  shirt  fronts  and  pat- 
ent-leather shoes  and  top  hats,  he  stands  out  like  a 
very  bird  of  paradise  in  his  navy  blue  coat,  trimmed  with 
red  piping,  bright  red  waistcoat,  knee  breeches  tied  with 
heavy  tassels,  and  bright  shoe-buckles.  He  might  have 
stepped  into  the  Riksdag  out  of  the  century  before  last. 
But  I  am  glad  he  has  not  discarded  his  national  costume, 
and,  whenever  I  see  a  Dalecarlian  girl  on  the  street  in 
her  bright  striped  apron  and  piquant  cap  (and  these 
girls  often  seek  service  in  Stockholm),  I  am  again  grate- 
ful for  the  bit  of  color  which  they  bring  into  the  gray, 
wintry  streets. 

Most  of  the  Swedes  are  decidedly  conventional  in 
their  costume  in  these  days,  and  you  see  more  shiny 
beavers  and  Prince  Albert  coats  than  you  would  in  the 
streets  of  London,  though  it  cannot  be  said  that  Swedes 


Copyright  by  Underwood  b°  Underwood,  N.  Y. 

Tea  House  on  Banks  of  Malar.    In  the  distance,  the  Grand 
Hotel,  Stockholm. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  21 

despise  brilliant  uniforms  on  state  occasions.  At  such 
times  the  diplomatic  representatives  of  the  United  States 
look  like  crows  in  a  flock  of  peacocks. 

While  I  am  writing  you  about  the  government  and 
the  court,  let  me  tell  you  a  few  words  about  the  church, 
for  Church  and  State  are  very  closely  connected  in 
Sweden.  To  be  sure,  there  are  many  free  churches  — 
Independent  (or  Congregational),  Baptist,  and  Metho- 
dist—  but  the  prevailing  religion,  to  which  I  suppose 
three  fourths  of  the  people  in  the  country  adhere,  is  the 
State  Lutheran  Church.  There  are  some  exceedingly 
fine  churches  in  Stockholm,  though,  considering  the  size 
of  the  city,  it  strikes  a  visitor  that  there  are  surprisingly 
few.  Some  of  the  parishes  are  very  large,  and  contain 
twenty  or  thirty  thousand  nominal  adherents.  The 
Church  of  the  Knights  is  perhaps  the  most  interesting 
one,  where  many  of  the  kings  of  Sweden,  even  down  to 
our  own  time,  are  buried. 

The  parish  priest  is  appointed  by  the  king,  or  consis- 
tory, at  least  nominally,  and  is  paid  out  of  the  taxes. 
Yet  there  is  a  good  degree  of  self-government  in  the 
churches,  for  the  parish  elects  the  boards  of  administra- 
tion of  church  affairs,  and  even  votes  on  ministerial  can- 
didates. Each  candidate  has  to  preach  a  trial  sermon 
before  the  congregation,  while  the  king,  if  it  is  a  royal 
benefice,  as  many  of  the  churches  are,  appoints  one  of 
the  three  candidates  who  receive  the  highest  number  of 
votes,  usually  appointing  the  one  who  is  the  candidate 
of  the  majority. 

It  must  be  even  a  more  trying  thing  to  "candidate" 


22  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

in  Sweden  than  in  America,  for  here  it  is  frankly  admitted 
that  the  preacher  and  his  sermon  are  on  trial,  and  there 
is  no  polite  fiction  about  an  exchange  with  a  brother 
minister,  with  a  suggestion  that  the  health  of  the  candi- 
date's wife  requires  a  change  of  parishes. 

I  had  it  in  mind,  Judicia,  to  tell  you  in  this  letter 
about  certain  things  less  lofty  than  affairs  of  Church  and 
State,  but  must  reserve  the  story  for  another  epistle. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


THIRD  LETTER 

In  which  Phillips  suggests  that  Stockholm  should  be  called  the 
"Automatic  City";  describes  the  queer  statistical  animals, 
called  **  unified  cattle  ";  extracts  some  interesting  facts  from  the 
census;  does  not  consider  the  stores  or  the  bathtubs  beneath 
his  notice;  treats  of  the  effective  temperance  legislation  of 
Sweden,  and  tells  why  a  fire  is  so  rare  an  excitement  in 
Stockholm. 

Stockeolm,  January  7. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

You  know  how  our  American  cities  often  strain  them- 
selves to  find  an  appropriate  name  or  nickname  by  which 
they  shall  be  known  among  their  sister  municipalities. 
Stockholm  is  certainly  the  "Queen  City  of  the  North," 
and  is  deserving  of  any  other  high-flown  title  you  have 
a  mind  to  give  her.  But  if  we  descend  to  more  prosaic 
designations,  we  might  well  call  it  the  "Automatic  City." 
Nowhere  in  the  world  can  you  drop  a  penny  in  the  slot 
and  get  so  much  back  for  it  as  you  can  in  Stockholm. 

The  automobile,  which  abounds  everywhere,  is  an 
automatic  machine  which  registers  in  its  taximeter  the 
distance  run,  and  thus  avoids  all  disputes  with  the  chauf- 
feur. The  telephones,  whose  little  green  pagodas  dot 
the  city  in  every  direction,  are  also  penny-in-the-slot 
affairs,  and  you  can  talk,  as  I  think  I  have  already  told 
you,  with  any  town  on  the  map  of  Scandinavia  for  a 
very  reasonable  sima. 


24  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

But  when  it  comes  time  for  frokost  (breakfast),  or 
middag  (dimier),  then  the  automat  is  very  much  in  evi- 
dence. It  seems  at  first  to  the  traveler  that  the  keeping 
of  automat  restaurants  is  the  chief  business  in  Stock- 
hohn,  for  we  find  one  at  ahnost  every  corner.  Drop  a 
ten  ore  piece  in  the  slot,  and,  according  to  your  choice 
of  viands,  a  glass  of  milk,  a  cup  of  tea  or  coffee,  a  cheese 
sandwich,  a  sausage,  or  a  boiled  egg  drops  out  of  the 
spout.  Or,  if  you  wish  a  more  extravagant  meal,  twenty- 
five  ore  (about  seven  cents)  will  give  you  your  choice  of 
a  dozen  hot  dishes.  One  writer  with  a  sense  of  humor 
speaks  of  such  estabhshments  as  I  have  described  as 
the  "rich  man's  automat,"  but  he  is  not  far  from  wrong 
when  you  compare  this  establishment  with  the  Httle 
wooden  buildings  which  you  see  in  the  market  squares 
and  along  the  docks  of  Stockholm,  for  this  is  the  auto- 
mat reduced  to  its  lowest  terms  for  cheapness  and  sim- 
phcity.  There  is  no  apparent  opening  in  this  wooden 
box,  but  a  shelf  runs  around  it,  and  large  cups  are 
chained  to  it,  with  a  tap  in  the  wall  at  every  few  feet. 
Inside  is  a  tank  of  hot  milk.  The  marketmen  drop  a 
five  ore  piece  (a  trifle  over  a  cent)  into  the  slot,  and  out 
runs  nearly  a  pint  of  rich,  hot  milk.  No  wonder  that 
there  are  enough  cattle  to  give  every  man,  woman,  and 
child  in  Sweden  on  the  average  one  milch  cow,  or  else 
the  "poor  man's  automat"  could  never  be  maintained 
at  any  such  figures. 

The  process  of  arithmetic,  however,  by  which  this 
milch  cow  is  allotted  to  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  is 
interesting  and  peculiar,  since  for  the  purpose  of  com- 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  25 

parative  statistics  the  Swedish  Bureau  has  invented 
fictitious  animals  called  "unified  cattle."  This  is  ex- 
plained by  Mr.  Sundbarg  in  his  Swedish  Land  and  Folk 
as  follows:  The  milch  cow  is  the  imit,  and  all  other  ani- 
mals the  multiples.  For  instance,  a  horse  is  equal  to  a 
cow  and  a  third;  a  sheep  is  reckoned  as  a  tenth  of  a 
cow;  a  goat  as  only  a  twelfth  of  a  cow,  while  it  takes 
four  pigs  to  make  a  cow.  I  cannot  for  the  Mfe  of  me  see 
why  a  pig  should  be  worth  two  and  a  half  sheep;  can  you? 
A  reindeer  is  only  worth  a  fifth  of  a  cow,  which  seems  to 
me  altogether  too  small  a  value  to  put  upon  these  indis- 
pensable animals  of  snowland. 

Well,  the  result  is  that  in  the  last  census  which  is 
available  to  me  Sweden  possessed  something  over  five 
milHons  of  these  composite  animals  called  "unified 
cattle,"  and,  as  I  before  told  you,  every  mother's  son  and 
daughter  in  Sweden,  on  the  average,  possesses  one  milch 
cow,  or  it  may  be  three  quarters  of  a  horse,  ten  sheep, 
twelve  goats,  four  pigs,  or  five  and  a  half  reindeer.  If  I 
were  a  Swede  I  think  I  would  choose  to  have  my  share 
in  reindeer. 

While  we  are  dealing  with  statistics,  Judicia,  let  us 
have  it  out  and  squeeze  the  census  dry  of  interesting 
facts  and  be  done  with  it.  How  many  wealthy  persons 
do  you  suppose  there  are  among  the  five  and  a  half  mil- 
lions of  Swedes  who  have  not  yet  crossed  the  Atlantic 
to  seek  a  home  in  the  New  World?  Well,  if  at  your 
leisure  you  can  find  out  what  13.75  per  cent  of  five  and  a 
half  millions  is  you  will  know  exactly  the  number  of 
people  that  can  be  called  "wealthy."    It  would  not  be 


26  THE   CHARM  OF   SCANDINAVIA 

far  from  seven  hundred  thousand.  Then  in  "easy"  cir- 
cumstances we  find  sixty-seven  per  cent  of  the  people, 
or  about  three  and  a  half  milHons.  In  "straightened" 
drcimastances  there  are  rather  more  than  could  be  called 
wealthy,  while  we  find  that  there  are  only  about  three 
per  cent  of  the  people  who  are  in  genuine  poverty  and 
have  to  receive  help  from  the  State  or  from  their  richer 
neighbors. 

I  think  these  statistics  speak  exceedingly  well,  for  the 
Swedes.  Agur's  prayer,  "Give  me  neither  poverty  nor 
riches;  feed  me  with  food  convenient  for  me,"  seems  to 
have  been  answered  for  them.  Even  those  in  wealthy 
circumstances  are  not  so  enormously  rich  that  they  are 
in  danger  of  losing  heaven  by  such  a  burden  of  wealth 
as  would  prevent  the  camel  from  passing  through  the  eye 
of  the  needle. 

Since  I  have  told  you  how  many  cows,  how  many 
fractions  of  a  pig  or  of  a  reindeer  every  Swede  possesses, 
you  may  also  be  glad  to  know  that  if  all  the  land  were 
divided  up  evenly  every  old  grandam  and  every  baby 
in  the  cradle  would  have  twenty  and  a  half  acres.  Only 
two  and  a  quarter  acres  of  these  are  under  cultivation, 
but  he  would  have  nearly  ten  acres  of  woodland,  which 
would  surely  furnish  him  with  enough  fuel,  while  his 
seven  and  a  half  acres  of  uncultivated  land  would  fur-, 
nish  plenty  of  pasturage  for  his  cow,  or  his  three- 
quarters  of  a  horse. 

Speaking  of  fuel,  I  must  launch  into  a  mild  eulogy  of 
these  Swedish  stoves.  Even  Aylmer  will  admit  that 
they  are  better  than  the  air-tight,  iron  monstrosities 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  27 

which  they  have  in  Norway,  and  in  America  too,  for 
that  matter,  where  "central  heating"  has  not  replaced 
them.  These  Swedish  stoves  are  much  like  the  German 
porcelain  heaters,  only  they  are  built  on  a  more  generous 
scale.  They  occupy  a  whole  corner  of  the  room,  and  often 
extend  from  floor  to  ceiling.  Usually  they  are  of  white 
porcelain,  though  often  other  colored  tiles  are  used, 
and  sometimes  they  are  highly  ornamented  with  cupids 
or  dragons,  or  like  allegorical  animals. 

In  the  morning,  quite  early,  the  pretty  chambermaid 
makes  a  fire  of  short  birch  sticks,  filling  the  firebox  up  to 
the  top.  Then  the  drafts  must  be  left  open  until  all  the 
gases  and  smoke  have  escaped,  which  have  such  a  tortuous 
course  to  travel  through  the  many  pipes  concealed  with- 
in the  porcelain  that  gradually  they  heat  the  great  white 
monument  through  and  through.  When  the  birch  is 
reduced  to  living  coals,  the  dampers  are  shut  off;  the 
heat  is  thus  retained,  and  a  genial  warmth  is  given  out 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Even  at  night  the  tilings  of  the 
stove  are  quite  warm,  and  you  seldom  want  more  than 
one  "heating"  in  the  course  of  the  twenty-four  hours, 
except  in  the  most  extreme  weather. 

After  this  little  excursion  into  stoveland,  let  me  re- 
turn for  a  moment  to  our  fascinating  statistics.  It  is 
said  that  the  Swedes  are  the  longest-Hved  people  in  the 
world,  and  within  a  himdred  years  they  have  reduced 
the  death  rate  nearly  one  half.  I  wonder  if  this  low 
death  rate  is  not  due  in  part  to  their  cleanly  habits.  I 
suppose  the  fresh,  northern  mountain  air,  crisp  and 
frosty  in  the  winter,  and  the  out-of-door  life  which  a 


28  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

people  largely  agricultural  live  has  much  to  do  with  it, 
but  I  am  also  inclined  to  think  that  their  love  of  the 
prosaic  bathtub  is  partly  responsible,  for  I  suppose  that 
the  Scandinavians,  with  the  exception  of  the  Japanese, 
and  perhaps  the  Finns,  are  the  cleanliest  people  in  the 
world. 

I  have  seen  a  funny  picture  which  represents  a  school 
bath.  It  is  a  photograph,  too.  Here  is  a  big  school 
bathroom  with  a  dozen  tubs  shaped  like  washtubs  set- 
ting on  the  floor,  each  one  occupied  by  a  sturdy  little 
youngster  of  some  ten  summers.  Each  one  is  indus- 
triously scrubbing  the  back  of  his  next  neighbor,  while 
he  is  immersed  up  to  his  middle  in  the  warm  water. 
Over  each  boy's  head  is  a  shower  bath,  and  if  friendly 
competition  does  not  make  the  back  of  each  of  those 
boys  immaculate  I  do  not  know  how  cleanliness  can  be 
achieved. 

However  much  the  school  tub  may  have  to  do  with  the 
longevity  of  the  Swede,  I  know  that  the  blue  ribboners 
would  ascribe  the  increasing  span  of  his  years  to  the 
temperance  law  which  the  last  parliamentary  half-cen- 
tury has  seen  enacted  and  enforced.  Sweden  once  had 
the  sad  reputation  of  being  the  most  drunken  coimtry  in 
Europe,  and  no  wonder,  for  in  1775  Gustavus  III  made 
liquor  selling  and  liquor  making  a  State  monopoly,  and 
much  revenue  was  derived  from  intoxicating  fluids. 
The  heaviest  drinker  was  the  greatest  benefactor  of  the 
State,  for  he  was  thus  adding  with  every  dram  to  the 
public  revenues.  Tea  and  coffee  were  shut  out  of  the 
country  by  the  laws,  lest  some  poor  toper  should  prefer 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  29 

them.  Beer  even  was  unknown,  and  wine  was  rare  and 
costly. 

Who  do  you  think  was  the  first  man  to  protest  against 
this  wholesale  drunkard  making?  It  was  no  other  than 
Linnaeus,  the  gentle  botanist,  to  whom  the  world  is  in- 
debted for  naming  more  plants  than  Adam  ever  named. 
He  tried  to  convince  the  people  of  the  awful  effects  of 
alcoholism  upon  the  national  Hfe.  After  about  a  decade 
and  a  half  the  government  became  ashamed  of  itself  and 
abolished  its  monopoly.  But  then  things  went  from  bad 
to  worse,  for  the  making  and  selHng  of  liquor  became 
absolutely  free.  Everybody  who  had  a  Httle  grain 
made  it  into  whisky.  Every  large  farm  had  its  dis- 
tillery, and  to  make  drunkards  became,  not  the  busi- 
ness of  the  State,  but  of  everybody  who  wished  to 
make  money. 

Thus  things  went  on  for  some  forty  years,  when  the 
Neal  Dow,  or  more  properly  the  Father  Matthew  of 
Sweden,  came  to  the  front.  This  was  Canon  Wieselgren, 
who  in  1830  began  to  write  and  lecture  against  this  awful 
national  evil,  and  at  last,  aided  by  famous  men  of  sci- 
ence, who  made  exhaustive  studies  of  alcohoHsm,  he 
brought  about  a  complete  and  blessed  reform  in  the 
liquor  laws.  The  tax  on  whisky  was  raised  so  high  that 
private  individuals  could  neither  make  nor  sell  it.  Lo- 
cal option  was  allowed,  and  many  communities  forbade 
altogether  the  sale  of  liquor.  At  last  the  famous  Gothen- 
burg system  was  adopted,  and  "the  monopoly  of  the 
manufacture  and  sale  of  spirits  was  given  to  a  company 
which  is  allowed  to  make  only  a  fair  rate  of  interest  out 


3©  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

of  the  capital  employed,  and  must  hand  over  the  sur- 
plus to  the  conmiunity,  to  be  used  in  the  support  of 
such  institutions  as  may  tend  to  diminish  the  consump- 
tion of  liquor  and  combat  drunkenness."  The  company 
is  guaranteed  five  per  cent  on  its  capital  should  the  sale 
fall  below  a  certain  minimiun.  This  system  has  the 
great  advantage  that  it  precludes  all  desire  on  the 
part  of  the  company  and  its  retail  sellers  to  increase  the 
sale  of  drink,  as  the  interest  on  the  capital  employed  is 
secured  and  is  not  Kable  to  be  increased  by  a  larger 
output. 

There  are  various  other  regulations  which  are  of  in- 
terest to  all  in  our  country,  since  the  liquor  problem  is 
always  a  burning  question.  The  retail  seller  must  pro- 
vide food  as  well  as  drink,  and  is  not  allowed  to  sell 
liquor  without  food,  and  then  only  in  a  small  glass  to 
each  customer.  Youths  under  eighteen  years  of  age 
cannot  buy,  and  the  retail  shops  must  close  at  six 
o^clock.  The  profits  that  are  made  by  the  company 
must  be  used  in  providing  rooms,  free  libraries,  lectures, 
sports,  and  games,  and  it  is  said  that  the  visitors  to 
the  seven  reading  rooms  thus  provided  in  Gothenburg 
reach  half  a  million  every  year.  Now  Sweden  and 
Norway  are  the  most  temperate  countries  in  Europe. 
A  dnmken  man  is  a  rara  avis.  Crime  has  diminished 
in  like  proportion,  as  is  to  be  expected. 

Let  me  tell  you  of  one  more  Swedish  phenomenon  be- 
fore I  close  this  letter.  During  all  this  visit  to  Stock- 
holm, and  in  my  previous  visits  as  well,  I  have  never 
seen  a  fire  engine  go  tearing  through  the  streets,  though 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  31 

one  could  hardly  live  for  a  day  in  Boston  or  New  York 
without  such  an  excitement.  And  yet  they  have  fire 
engines  and  horses  ready  harnessed  day  and  night  in 
Stockholm,  and  men  sleeping  in  their  boots  ready  to 
drop  down  through  a  hole  in  the  floor  on  to  their  seat 
on  the  fire  engine  at  any  moment.  One  would  think 
that  the  men  would  get  tired  of  waiting  for  an  event  that 
so  seldom  happens,  and  that  the  horses  would  die  for 
lack  of  exercise,  as  they  imdoubtedly  would  if  they  had 
to  wait  for  a  fire  to  give  them  a  good  run. 

Do  you  want  to  know,  Judicia,  why  the  excitement  of  a 
fire  is  so  rare  in  Stockholm?  I  will  tell  you,  as  my  friend, 
Mr.  Thomas,  the  ex-Minister  to  Sweden,  has  told  me. 
"Once  a  year,  if  you  live  here,  two  gentlemen  will  call 
on  you  with  book  and  pencil  in  hand  and  carefully  ex- 
amine every  stove  in  your  rooms.  They  also  examine 
all  the  flues  and  chimneys.  They  are  officers  of  the  muni- 
cipality, and  the  patriarchal  government  of  Stockholm 
wishes  to  see  that  there  is  no  danger  of  your  burning 
yourself  up." 

If  they  find  that  your  chimneys  are  foul,  a  little  boy 
with  a  sooty  face,  with  white  teeth  and  eyeballs  shining 
through  the  grime,  will  wait  on  you.  He  will  have  a  rope 
wound  around  his  neck,  with  an  iron  hook  on  the  end, 
and  you  must  let  him  go  down  your  chimney  and  clean 
out  all  the  soot  and  cinders.  You  must  also  comply 
with  twelve  regulations  when  you  build  your  house, 
which  relate  to  the  material  for  the  walls  and  the  roof, 
the  construction  of  the  cellar,  etc.,  and  the  house  must 
not  be  more  than  sixty-eight  feet  high.    If  you  think 


32  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

these  regulations  are  too  severe,  they  will  at  least  re- 
duce the  size  of  your  insurance  bill,  for  $1.25  will  insure 
your  house  for  $2500  for  a  year;  that  is,  the  premium  is 
a  twentieth  of  one  per  cent  —  less  than  a  quarter  part 
of  what  it  would  be  in  America.  For  $17.50  you  may 
insure  your  house  forever  for  $1000.  If  it  stands  for  two 
hundred  years  you  will  never  have  to  pay  another  cent; 
so  you  see  there  are  some  advantages,  even  if  there  are 
some  annoyances,  in  a  paternal  government. 

I  know  your  aversion  to  statistics,  my  dear  Judicia, 
and  in  spite  of  their  proverbial  dullness  it  does  seem 
to  me  rather  necessary  for  one  who  would  feel  the 
deepest  charm  of  Sweden  to  know  something  about  the 
characteristics  of  the  Swedes  and  their  comparative 
standing  in  matters  material  and  moral  with  the  other 
nations  of  Europe.  But  since,  in  an  early  letter,  these 
matters  have  been  disposed  of,  I  can  promise  you  in  my 
next  something  to  which  your  romantic  soul  will  re- 
spond more  generously. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


FOURTH  LETTER 

Wherein  Phillips  tells  of  the  many  beautiful  excursions  from 
Stockholm,  and  soon  takes  Judicia  into  the  heart  of  Dalecarlia, 
noted  for  the  fertility  of  its  soil  and  the  bright  costumes  of  its 
maidens.  He  also  rehearses  the  romantic  story  of  Gustavus 
Vasa,  involving  the  treacherous  cruelty  of  Christian  II  and  the 
many  hairbreadth  escapes  of  Gustavus,  until  he  roused  the 
Swedes  to  fight  for  and  win  their  freedom. 

Mora,  Dalecarlia,  January,  lo. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  told  you  in  a  former  letter,  did  I  not,  about  the  pretty 
maidens  from  Dalecarlia  whom  one  often  meets  in  their 
bright  costumes  on  the  streets  of  Stockholm,  as  well  as 
the  "Member  from  Dalecarlia,"  who  relieves  the  solemn 
monotony  of  the  Riksdag  with  his  ancient  provincial 
costume.  Attracted  by  these  brilliant  birds  of  passage, 
I  am  going  to  take  you  to-day  to  the  very  heart  of  Da- 
lecarlia, where  they  live,  for  it  is  the  most  interesting 
province  in  all  Sweden. 

Stockholm  has  the  distinct  advantage,  not  only  of 
being  a  most  interesting  city  in  itself,  but  of  being  a 
center  from  which  you  can  easily  make  excursions  to 
any  part  of  Scandinavia,  east  or  west,  or  north  or  south; 
and,  believe  me,  in  whichever  direction  you  start  you 
will  have  no  regrets  that  you  did  not  take  some  other 
excursion,  for  each  one  has  its  own  peculiar  fascination. 

A  story  is  told  of  a  young  English  couple  who  came 


34  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

to  Stockholm  for  their  honeymoon.  They  thought  a 
week  would  be  sufficient  to  exhaust  the  attractions  of 
the  city  and  its  environs.  Without  guide  or  guide  book 
they  started  out  one  morning,  taking  one  of  the  little 
steamers,  not  knowing  or  caring  whither  they  went  or 
where  they  would  bring  up.  So  dehghted  were  they  with 
this  trip  that  the  next  day  they  took  another,  and  the 
next  still  another,  and  so  on  every  day  for  three  months 
they  made  a  different  excursion  over  the  waterways  of 
Sweden,  coming  back  to  Stockholm  every  night;  and  even 
then  they  had  not  exhausted  the  possible  trips.  Indeed 
there  are  more  than  two  himdred  of  these  little  steamers 
that  ply  through  the  canals  and  the  lakes,  and  along  the 
Baltic  coast.  One  of  the  delights  of  Sweden  is  its  infinite 
variety. 

If  it  were  simimer  time  we  would  take  one  of  these 
little  steamers  along  the  coast  directly  north  to  Gafle; 
but  at  this  time  of  year  it  is  more  convenient  to  take  the 
comfortable  train,  which  in  a  few  hours  will  land  us  in 
the  very  heart  of  Dalecarlia,  or  Dalarne,  as  the  Swedes 
usually  call  it. 

The  province  has  many  attractions.  Smiling  valleys, 
which  one  can  see  even  imder  their  blanket  of  snow  must 
be  abundantly  productive,  are  frequently  crossed  by 
strong  rivers  rushing  to  the  Baltic.  The  Dal  especially 
is  a  splendid  stream,  while  Lake  Siljan,  a  great  sheet  of 
water  in  the  very  heart  of  the  province,  with  peaceful 
shores  sloping  gently  back  from  its  blue  waters  on  every 
side,  adds  the  last  touch  to  the  sylvan  scene.  I  am  writ- 
ing of  it  as  it  is  in  sununer,  but  I  am  always  in  doubt 


Copyright  hy  Underwood  &"  Underwood,  N.  Y 

Some  Girls  of  Dalecarlia. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  35 

whether  these  Swedish  landscapes  are  more  beautiful  in 
white  or  green. 

The  quaint  costumes  of  the  Dalecarlians,  as  you  can 
imagine,  add  immensely  to  the  interest  of  the  coimtry. 
It  is  the  only  province  of  Sweden,  so  far  as  I  know,  that 
retains  its  ancient  dress  and  glories  in  it.  In  some  parts 
each  parish  has  its  own  peculiar  costume,  and,  as  is 
natural  and  appropriate,  the  ladies  are  far  brighter  in 
plimiage  than  the  men. 

As  you  know,  I  am  not  good  at  describing  a  lady's 
dress.  How  often  have  you  upbraided  me  for  not  be- 
ing able  to  tell  you  what  the  bride  wore?  Let  me  then 
borrow  the  description  of  a  connoisseur  in  these  matters: 
'' Bright  bits  of  color  were  the  maidens  we  met  along 
the  road.  The  skirts  of  their  dresses  were  of  some  dark- 
blue  stuff,  except  in  front.  Here,  from  the  waist  down, 
for  the  space  that  would  be  covered  by  an  ample  apron, 
the  dress  was  white,  black,  yellow,  red,  and  green,  in 
transverse  bars  about  two  inches  wide.  Each  bar  was 
divided  throughout  its  entire  length  by  a  narrow  rib  or 
backbone  of  red,  and  these  gaudy  stripes  repeated 
themselves  down  to  the  feet.  The  waist  of  these  dresses 
was  very  low,  not  much  more  than  a  broad  belt,  and 
above  this  swelled  out  their  white  chemise,  covering  the 
bust  and  arms,  and  surmounted  with  a  narrow  lace 
collar  around  the  neck.  Outside  the  collar  was  a  gaudy 
kerchief,  caught  together  on  the  breast  by  a  roimd  silver 
brooch  with  three  pendants.  On  their  heads  was  a 
black  helmet  of  thick  cloth,  with  a  narrow  red  rib  in  the 
seams.    The  helmet  rose  to  a  point  on  top,  and  came 


36  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

low  down  in  the  neck  behind,  where  depended  two  black 
bands  ending  in  red,  woolly  globes  that  played  about 
their  shoulders.  Under  the  helmet  might  be  seen  the 
edge  of  a  white  kerchief  boimd  about  their  brows,  and 
beneath  the  kerchief  escaped  floods  of  golden  ringlets 
that  waved  above  bright  blue  eyes  and  adown  brown, 
ruddy  cheeks.  In  cold  weather  the  maids  and  the 
matrons  also  wear  a  short  jacket  of  snowy  sheepskin 
with  the  wool  inside." 

But  the  greatest  charm  to  me  about  Dalecarlia  is  not 
in  the  lovely  pastoral  scenery,  or  even  in  the  bright 
costumes  and  brighter  faces  of  its  maidens,  but  in  its 
noble,  soul-stirring  history,  for  here  is  where  Sweden's 
Independence  Day  dawned,  and  to  the  devout  Swede 
every  foot  of  the  province  is  sacred  soil. 

To  get  fully  into  this  tonicky,  patriotic  atmosphere  we 
must  go  around  the  great  lake  to  Mora,  on  its  north- 
western shore.  Then  we  will  walk  a  mile  out  into  the 
country,  for  you  will  not  mind  a  little  walk  through  the 
snow  on  a  beautiful  crisp  morning  like  this,  until  we 
come  to  a  square,  stone  building,  which  is  peculiar  in 
having  a  large  door  but  no  windows.  The  custodian, 
who  lives  near  by,  imlocks  the  massive  door,  and  we 
find  on  entering  that  what  we  have  come  to  see  is  all 
imderground. 

Opening  a  trapdoor  in  the  center  of  the  building, 
our  guide  precedes  us  down  half  a  dozen  steps  until  we 
stand  on  the  floor  of  a  small  cellar,  less  than  ten  feet 
square  and  perhaps  seven  feet  high.  Here  was  enacted 
the   homely   scene  which    was   the    turning  point  in 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  37 

Sweden's  history.  The  cackling  geese  that  saved  Rome, 
the  spider  that  inspired  Bruce  to  another  heroic  effort 
for  Scotland's  freedom,  were  not  more  necessary  to  the 
story  of  these  nations  than  was  Margit,  wife  of  Tomte 
Matts  Larsson,  who  placed  a  big  tubfnl  of  Christmas 
beer  which  she  had  been  brewing  over  this  trapdoor  so 
that  the  bloodthirsty  Danes,  who  were  eagerly  search- 
ing for  Gustavus  Vasa,  never  suspected  that  he  was 
hidden  in  the  cellar  beneath.  ' 

But  in  order  to  understand  the  full  significance  of  this 
rude  cellar  and  the  importance  to  the  history  of  Sweden 
of  Margit's  ready  wit,  we  must  go  back  to  Stockholm 
in  imagination  and  transport  ourselves  by  the  same 
ready  means  of  conveyance  back  nearly  four  hundred 
years  to  the  later  months  of  1520,  when  Christian  II  of 
Denmark,  who  was  a  Christian  only  in  name,  was  crowned 
king  of  Sweden  in  the  Church  of  St.  Nikolaus  at  Stock- 
holm. 

Christian  had  been  provoked  by  the  opposition  of 
the  leading  Swedes  to  the  union  of  their  country  with 
Denmark  and  with  their  attempt  to  set  up  a  king  of 
their  own.  At  last  he  determined  to  crush  out  all  op- 
position, and  with  a  great  army  he  ravaged  the  country, 
conquered  the  provinces  one  after  the  other,  and,  as  we 
have  seen,  was  at  last  crowned  king  in  Stockholm. 

He  appeared  to  be  on  especially  good  terms  with  the 
nobles  of  the  country  that  he  had  conquered,  and  in- 
vited them  all,  together  with  the  chief  men  of  Stock- 
holm and  the  most  distinguished  ecclesiastics  of  the 
country,  to  the  great  festivities  connected  with  his  coro- 


38  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

nation.  Suddenly,  and  mightily  to  their  amazement, 
they  all  found  themselves  arrested  and  thrown  into 
various  dungeons  on  the  charge  of  treason  to  the  king. 
The  city  was  put  in  a  state  of  siege.  The  muzzles  of 
big  gims  threatened  the  people  at  every  street  corner. 
But  the  prisoners  were  not  kept  long  in  suspense. 
Soon  the  gates  of  the  palace,  in  whose  dungeons 
they  were  confined,  were  flung  open  and,  surrounded 
by  soldiers  and  assassins,  they  were  marched  to  a  cen- 
tral square. 

First  Bishop  Matthias  was  brought  forth.  "As  he 
knelt  with  hands  pressed  together  and  upUfted  as  in 
prayer,  his  own  brother  and  his  chancellor  sprang  for- 
ward to  take  a  last  farewell.  But  at  that  very  moment 
the  headsman  swung  his  broadsword.  The  bishop's  head 
fell  and  rolled  on  the  ground  toward  his  friends,  while 
his  blood  spurted  from  the  headless  tnmk." 

One  by  one  the  other  victims  followed  —  twelve  sena- 
tors, three  mayors,  and  fourteen  of  the  councilors  of 
Stockholm  —  until,  before  the  sun  set  on  that  black 
Thursday,  November  8,  1520,  eighty-two  of  Sweden's 
best  and  noblest  men  had  paid  the  penalty  of  their  love  of 
freedom  and  their  hatred  of  tyranny.  This  was  but  the 
beginning.  Other  outrages  followed.  The  noble  ladies 
of  Sweden  were  carried  off  to  Copenhagen  and  there 
thrown  into  dungeons.  This  massacre  is  called  in  his- 
tory "Stockhohn's  Blood  Bath." 

The  unchristian  Christian  by  this  massacre  seems  to 
have  merely  whetted  his  appetite  for  blood,  for  on  his 
return  to  Denmark  the  next  month  he  glutted  his  insane 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  39 

desire  for  the  lives  of  his  best  people  by  many  another 
murder. 

A  touching  story  is  told  of  such  a  scene  in  Jonkoping. 
He  beheaded  Lindorn  Rabbing  and  his  two  little  boys, 
eight  and  six  years  of  age.  The  elder  son  was  first  de- 
capitated. "When  the  younger  saw  the  flowing  blood 
which  dyed  his  brother's  clothes,  he  said  to  the  heads- 
man, 'Dear  Man,  don't  let  my  shirt  get  all  bloody  like 
brother's,  for  mother  will  whip  me  if  you  do.'  The  child- 
ish prattle  touched  the  heart  of  even  the  grim  headsman. 
Flinging  away  his  sword,  he  cried : '  Sooner  shall  my  own 
shirt  be  stained  with  blood  than  I  make  bloody  yours, 
my  boy.'  But  the  barbarous  king  beckoned  to  a  more 
hardened  butcher,  who  first  cut  ofif  the  head  of  the  lad, 
and  then  that  of  the  executioner  who  had  shown  mercy." 

Do  you  wonder,  Judicia,  that  the  hearts  of  the  Swedes 
were  mad  with  grief  and  anger?  Yet  they  seemed 
utterly  cowed,  stunned,  so  terrible  were  their  disasters, 
and  it  appeared  impossible  that  help  should  arise  from 
any  quarter. 

But  Sweden's  darkest  day  was  just  before  its  dawn, 
and  the  one  who  was  to  accomplish  her  deliverance  from 
tyrants  forever  was  a  young  man  four  and  twenty  years 
of  age.  His  father,  Erik  Johansson,  was  one  of  the  noble- 
men whose  blood  reddened  the  streets  of  Stockholm  on 
that  awful  November  day,  while  his  mother  and  sisters 
were  carried  off  to  languish  in  the  dungeons  of  Copen- 
hagen. Just  as  the  ax  was  about  to  strike  its  fatal  blow, 
a  messenger  came  in  hot  haste  from  the  king  offering 
pardon  to  Erik  Johansson,  but  he  would  not  accept  it 


40  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

from  such  a  monster,  and  he  cried  out:  "My  comrades 
are  honorable  gentlemen.  I  will,  in  God's  name,  die  the 
death  with  them." 

His  son,  Gustavus,  had  also  been  summoned  to  Stock- 
holm by  the  king;  but  he  suspected  mischief,  for  he  had 
already  been  a  wanderer  for  two  years  in  the  wilds  of 
Sweden  to  escape  Christian's  wrath,  so  he  did  not  obey 
the  order.  When  he  heard  of  the  massacre,  he  at  once 
fled  from  his  hiding-place  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Malar  and 
sought  refuge  in  Dalecarlia.  Here  he  adopted  the  cos- 
tume of  the  country  as  a  disguise.  He  put  on  a  home- 
spun suit  of  clothes.  He  cut  his  hair  squarely  around 
his  ears,  and  with  a  round  hat,  and  an  ax  over  his 
shoulder  he  started  out  to  arouse  the  Swedish  people 
to  make  one  more  last  stand  for  liberty. 

Here  in  beautiful  Dalecarlia  he  had  innumerable 
adventures.  I  should  have  to  write  a  volume  if  I  at- 
tempted to  tell  them  all.  On  one  occasion  he  was  let 
down  from  a  second-story  window  of  a  farmhouse  by  a 
long  towel  held  by  Barbro  Stigsdotter,  a  noble  Swedish 
woman  whose  husband  had  taken  the  side  of  the  king. 
She  deserves  a  place  beside  our  own  Barbara  Frietchie, 
and  I  wish  I  were  another  Whittier  to  immortalize  her. 
When  her  dastardly  husband  returned  with  twenty 
Danish  soldiers  to  arrest  the  young  nobleman,  Gus- 
tavus was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  we  are  told  that 
Arendt  Persson  never  forgave  his  wife  this  deed. 

Another  good  story  is  told  about  Gustavus  at  Isala 
not  far  away.  Here  the  hunted  fugitive  was  warming 
himself  in  the  little  hut  of  Sven  Elfsson,  while  Sven's 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  41 

wife  was  baking  bread.  Just  at  this  unlucky  moment 
the  Danish  spies  who  were  searching  for  him  broke  in- 
to the  hut.  But  with  rare  presence  of  mind  and  noble 
patriotism,  with  which  Swedish  women  seem  to  have 
been  preeminently  endowed,  she  struck  him  smartly 
on  the  shoulder  with  the  long  wooden  shovel  with  which 
she  was  accustomed  to  pull  her  loaves  out  of  the  oven, 
at  the  same  time  shouting  in  a  peremptory  voice:  ''What 
are  you  standing  here  and  gaping  at?  Have  you  never 
seen  folks  before?    Out  with  you  into  the  barn!" 

The  Danish  soldiers  could  not  believe  that  a  peasant 
woman  would  treat  a  scion  of  the  nobility  like  that,  and 
concluded  that  after  all  he  was  not  the  man  they  were 
looking  for.  Sven  himself  seems  to  have  been  as  patri- 
otic as  his  wife,  for  when  the  soldiers  had  retired  for  a 
little  he  covered  Gustavus  up  deep  in  a  load  of  straw 
and  drove  him  out  farther  into  the  forest.  But  the 
suspicious  soldiers  could  not  be  so  easily  put  off  their 
scent,  and,  suspecting  that  there  might  be  somebody 
or  something  of  importance  imder  the  straw,  they  stuck 
their  spears  into  it  over  and  over  again.  At  last,  satis- 
fied that  there  was  nothing  there,  they  rode  on. 

But  soon  drops  of  blood  began  to  trickle  through  the 
straw  upon  the  white  snow,  and  in  order  to  allay  the 
suspicions  of  the  Danes,  who  might  come  up  with  him 
at  any  moment,  Sven  gashed  his  horse's  leg,  that  they 
might  suppose  that  the  blood  came  from  the  animal  and 
not  from  anything  concealed  in  his  sledge.  At  Isala  to- 
day we  see  the  barn  of  good  Sven  Elfsson,  and  just  in 
front  of  it  a  monument  telling  of  Gustavus'  hairbreadth 


42  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

escape.  Fortunately  the  wounds  received  by  him  under 
the  straw  were  not  serious,  and  after  many  days  and 
many  adventures  he  reached  Lake  Siljan  and  the  Httle 
village  of  Mora,  where  we  first  saw  him  concealed  in 
Larsson's  cellar,  over  whose  door  good  Margit  had  put 
her  tub  of  Christmas  beer. 

Christmas  Day  came  at  last  in  the  sad  year  of  1520, 
as  it  has  in  many  a  glad  year  since  for  the  people  of 
Sweden,  and  the  Dalecarhans  flocked  to  the  church  at 
Mora.  After  the  church  service,  as  they  streamed  along 
the  road  to  their  homes,  a  young  man  of  noble  mien 
suddenly  mounted  a  heap  of  snow  by  the  roadside  and 
in  burning  words,  made  eloquent  and  forceful  not  only 
by  his  bitter  indignation  but  by  his  terrible  sufferings 
as  well,  he  rehearsed  the  perfidy  and  cruelty  of  the 
Danes,  and  urged  the  Swedes  to  assert  their  rights  as 
free  men  and  save  their  country. 

But  the  people  were  tired  of  fighting  and  overawed 
by  the  savage  Christian  and  his  myrmidons,  and  they 
begged  him  to  leave  them  in  peace.  The  poor  young 
nobleman  had  exhausted  his  resources;  he  had  fired  his 
last  shot,  and  so  in  despair  of  arousing  the  people  to 
fight  for  freedom,  since  in  Dalarne  of  all  the  provinces 
he  expected  to  find  the  spirit  of  liberty  not  quite  dead, 
he  fastened  his  long  skis  on  his  feet,  took  a  staff  in  his 
hand,  and  disappeared  into  the  forest. 

Day  after  day  he  made  his  solitary  way  through  the 
woods  and  over  the  snow  fields,  for  he  knew  that  the 
spies  of  Denmark  were  on  his  track.  He  had  almost 
approached  the  borders  of  Norway,  where  he  intended  to 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &•  Underwood,  N.  V. 


Where  Gustavus  Adolphus  Rests  among  Hard-Won 
Battle  Flags. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  43 

seek  an  asylum,  when  he  heard  a  sound  of  approaching 
runners,  and  then  the  glad  cry,  which  must  have  sounded 
like  music  in  his  ears:  ''Come  back,  Gustav;  we  of  Dale- 
carlia  have  repented.  We  will  fight  for  Fatherland  if 
you  will  lead  us."  We  can  imagine  how  gladly  he  re- 
sponded and  how  eagerly  he  returned  with  the  two  ski- 
nmners  to  Mora.  Here  the  people  elected  him  ''lord 
and  chieftain  over  Dalarne  and  the  whole  realm  of 
Sweden." 

As  a  snowball  grows  in  size  as  it  rolls  down  the  hill 
imtil  it  becomes  an  irresistible  avalanche,  so  the  peas- 
ants of  Sweden  gathered  around  Gustavus,  sixteen  at 
first,  then  two  hundred.  In  a  month  there  were  four 
hundred,  and  he  had  won  his  first  victory  at  Kopparber- 
get.  There  he  spoiled  the  Egyptians  and  divided  the 
spoil  among  his  followers,  which  of  course  did  not  di- 
minish his  popularity.  Soon  the  four  himdred  grew  to 
fifteen  hundred,  and  the  hundreds  became  thousands. 

But  the  Danes  were  not  to  give  up  without  a  struggle. 
Six  thousand  men  were  sent  out  against  the  patriots, 
who  had  now  mustered  five  thousand  men  to  oppose  them 
on  the  banks  of  the  river  Dal,  on  the  edge  of  the  prov- 
ince nearest  to  Stockholm.  The  Danes  were  mightily 
surprised  when  told  that  the  Swedes  were  so  determined 
to  win  that  they  would  live  on  water  and  bread  made 
from  the  bark  of  trees.  One  of  their  commanders  cried 
out:  "A  people  who  eat  wood  and  drink  water,  the  devil 
himself  cannot  subdue,  much  less  any  other." 

The  Danes  were  utterly  defeated,  their  morale  very 
likely  being  affected  by  these  terrible  stories  of  the  wood- 


44  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

eating  Dalecarlians.  Some  of  them  were  driven  into  the 
river  and  drowned,  and  the  rest  flew  helter-skelter, 
broken  and  defeated,  back  to  their  headquarters.  Of 
course  the  war  was  not  entirely  over,  but  the  young  hero 
knew  no  defeat,  and  finally,  on  June  23,  1523,  on  Mid- 
summer's Eve,  which  is  a  holiday  in  Sweden  second 
only  to  Christmas,  Gustavus  Vasa,  who  had  been  unani- 
mously elected  king  by  the  Riksdag,  rode  triumphantly 
into  his  nation's  capital. 

He  showed  his  religious  character  by  going  first  to  the 
cathedral,  where  he  kneeled  before  the  high  altar  and 
returned  thanks  to  Almighty  God;  and  here  in  my 
story  I  may  well  leave  the  man  who  freed  his  country 
from  the  Danish  yoke  —  the  George  Washington  of 
of  Sweden. 

You  are  such  a  stanch  patriot,  Judicia,  and  such 
a  hater  of  tyrants,  dead  or  alive,  that  I  know  I  need 
not  apologize  for  writing  somewhat  at  length  of  this 
glorious  period  in  Swedish  history. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


FIFTH  LETTER 

Wherein  are  described  the  glories  of  an  Arctic  winter;  the  comfort 
of  traveling  beyond  the  polar  circle  (with  a  brief  philological 
excursion) ;  the  inexpressible  beauties  of  the  "  European  Lady  of 
the  Snows";  the  unique  railway  station  of  Polcirkeln,  and  the 
regions  beyond. 

KiRUNA,  Lapland,  January  15. 
My  dear  Judiclv, 

I  wonder  if  you  remember  how  I  wrote  you  some  years 
ago  about  a  journey  I  made  toward  the  arctic  circle 
in  midwinter,  and  how  enraptured  I  was  with  the  still, 
cold  days,  the  wonderful  frosty  rime  on  every  bush  and 
fence  rail,  and  the  dawn  and  twilight  glories  of  the  low- 
running  Arctic  sun. 

Well,  finding  myself  in  Sweden  again  in  winter,  I 
resolved  to  push  my  explorations  a  Httle  farther  toward 
the  North  Pole  and  to  enjoy  once  more,  if  possible,  one 
of  the  most  delightful  experiences  of  my  Hfe.  The 
former  journey  was  made  about  the  middle  of  February, 
if  I  remember  rightly,  and  certain  engagements  obliged 
me  to  turn  my  face  southward  before  I  had  nearly 
reached  the  "farthest  north"  which  I  longed  for.  This 
time  I  resolved  that  I  would  not  be  robbed  of  a  single 
zero  joy,  but  would,  if  possible,  catch  the  sun  napping; 
that  is,  that  I  would  get  beyond  that  degree  of  latitude 
where  for  days  at  a  time  he  never  shows  his  face  above 


46  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  rim  of  the  horizon,  and  where  the  mild-mannered 
moon  ahnost  rivals  his  power  at  midday. 

In  order  to  do  this,  and  to  find  the  sun  hibernating,  I 
had  to  leave  Stockholm  early  in  January,  for,  though  he 
goes  to  bed  in  many  parts  of  Lapland  late  in  November, 
he  rises  and  shakes  out  his  golden  locks  before  the 
middle  of  January,  imless  you  go  to  the  most  northern 
point  of  Scandinavia,  and  then  you  get  out  of  Swedish 
Lapland  into  Norway.  So  you  see  I  had  no  time  to 
lose,  if  I  would  catch  the  sun  in  bed,  and  must  leave 
other  charms  of  Sweden  in  winter  as  well  as  in  simamer 
for  later  letters. 

To  go  far  beyond  the  arctic  circle  in  winter  is  not 
much  to  brag  about  in  Sweden,  for  you  can  make  the 
journey  quite  as  comfortably  as  you  can  go  from  New 
York  to  Chicago,  and  the  distance,  by  the  way,  from 
Stockholm  to  Kiruna  is  about  the  same. 

Do  not  suppose,  however,  that  we  have  any  "Twen- 
tieth Century  Limited"  in  this  part  of  the  world.  The 
Lapland  flier  takes  about  thirty-eight  hours  to  make 
the  distance,  but  one  need  have  no  fear  of  dashing  into 
another  flier  at  the  rate  of  fifty  miles  an  hour,  for  the 
Lapland  express  runs  only  three  times  a  week  in  either 
direction. 

Though  the  speed  is  not  hair-raising,  the  accommoda- 
tions are  all  that  could  be  desired.  Only  second  and 
third-class  cars  are  run  on  most  of  the  roads  of  Sweden, 
though,  by  a  poKte  fiction,  you  can  buy  a  first-class 
ticket  if  you  insist  upon  it.  If  you  are  "a,  fool,  a  lord, 
or  an  American,"  you  may  possibly  do  so,  in  which  case 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  47 

you  will  pay  the  combined  fare  of  a  second  and  third- 
class  ticket.  The  guard  will  put  you  in  a  second-class 
compartment  just  the  same  as  those  of  your  fellow 
travelers  and  paste  up  on  the  window  the  words  "First 
Class."  It  is  said  that  at  the  same  time  he  sticks  his 
tongue  in  his  cheek  and  winks  derisively  at  the  brakeman. 

I  cannot  vouch  for  this  fact,  for  I  have  never  bought 
a  first-class  ticket  in  Sweden,  and  I  never  should,  even 
if  I  had  money  "beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice,"  as 
the  novelist  would  say.  For  the  second-class  compart- 
ments are  entirely  comfortable,  upholstered  in  bright 
plush,  with  double  windows  and  ample  heat,  which  each 
traveler  can  turn  on  or  off  for  himself,  a  little  table 
on  which  to  put  your  books  and  writing  materials,  a 
carafe  of  fresh  water,  which  is  changed  several  times  a 
day,  and  a  crystal-clear  tumbler.  What  more  can  you 
ask?  To  be  sure  your  privacy  is  more  likely  to  be  in- 
vaded than  if  you  are  a  "first-class"  snob,  and  you  may 
sometimes  have  as  many  as  three  other  people  in  your 
compartments,  which  easily  accommodates  six.  But  to 
see  the  people  and  hear  them,  even  if  you  cannot  under- 
stand their  tongue,  is  part  of  the  joy  of  traveling,  and 
the  Swedish  language  is  so  musical  with  its  sing-song 
rhythm  that  it  never  grates  upon  the  ear,  and  if  one  is 
disposed  for  a  nap  it  will  quite  lull  him  to  sleep. 

My  friend,  ex-Minis ter  Thomas,  has  so  admirably  de- 
scribed one  inevitable  and  absolutely  unique  Swedish 
expression  that  I  think  I  must  quote  for  you  his  sprightly 
account  of  it.  "Should  you  ever  hear  two  persons 
talking  in  a  foreign  tongue,"  he  says,  "and  are  in  doubt 


48  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

as  to  what  nation  they  belong,  just  listen.  If  one  or 
the  other  does  not  say  'ja  si/  within  two  minutes,  it  is 
proof  positive  they  are  not  Swedes.  There  is  the  'ja 
si'  (pronounced  ya  so)  expressing  assent  to  the  views 
you  are  imparting,  'just  so';  the  'ja  sa'  of  approval 
and  admiration,  with  a  bow  and  a  smile;  the  'ja  sa* 
of  astonishment,  wonder,  and  surprise  at  the  awful  tale 
you  are  unfolding.  Now  the  Swede's  eyes  and  mouth 
become  circles  of  amazement,  and  he  draws  out  his 
reply,  'ja  so-o-o-o-o-o-o!'  There  is  the  hesitating  'ja 
si'  of  doubt;  the  abrupt  'ja  si,  jasi!'  twice  repeated, 
which  politely  informs  you  that  your  friend  does  not 
believe  a  word  you  are  saying;  the  'ja  si'  sarcastic, 
insinuating,  and  derogatory;  the  fierce  'ja  si'  of  denial; 
the  enraged  'ja  si,'  as  satisfactory  as  swearing;  the 
threatening  'ja  si,'  fully  equivalent  to  'I'll  punch  your 
head';  and  the  pleasant,  purring,  pussycat '  ja  si,'  chiefly 
used  by  the  fair  —  a  sort  of  flute  ohligato  accompani- 
ment to  your  discourse,  which  shows  that  she  is  listen- 
ing and  pleased,  and  encourages  you  to  continue.  And 
other  'ja  sis'  there  be,  too  nxmierous  for  mention.  I 
am  inclined  to  think  there  is  not  an  emotion  of  the  human 
soul  that  the  Swedes  cannot  express  by  'ja  si,'  but  the 
accent  and  intonation  are  different  in  every  case.  Each 
feeling  has  its  own  peculiar  '  ja  si,'  and  there  be  as  many, 
at  least,  as  there  are  smells  in  Cologne,  which  number, 
the  most  highly  educated  nostrils  give,  if  I  mistake  not, 
as  seventy- three." 

Some  other  phrases  in  Swedish  are  almost  equally 
useful,  and  if  we  should  hear  a  fellow  traveler  say 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  49 

lagom  over  and  over  again  we  would  know  that  some- 
body or  something  was  "just  about  right,"  though 
we  might  not  be  able  to  determine  from  the  context 
whether  he  was  referring  to  the  scenery,  to  his  wife's 
disposition,  or  to  the  frokost  which  he  enjoyed  at  the 
last  railway  station. 

Another  very  useful  Swedish  word,  which  it  is  a  pity 
we  cannot  introduce  into  our  English  vocabulary,  is 
syskon.  This  is  a  collective  noun,  referring  to  brothers 
and  sisters  alike  and  embracing  all  of  them  that  belong 
to  one  family.  As  "parents"  refers  to  both  father  and 
mother,  so  syskon  means  all  the  brothers  and  sisters  of 
the  family. 

However,  if  I  keep  on  with  this  rambling  philological 
discussion  I  shall  not  get  you  to  Kiruna,  my  dear 
Judicia,  even  within  the  thirty-eight  hours  which  the 
Swedish  time-table  allows.  I  must  tell  you  though  that, 
since  this  is  a  journey  of  two  nights  and  parts  of  two 
days,  the  "lying  down"  accommodations  are  quite  as 
important  as  those  for  sitting  up.  But  for  five  crowns 
additional,  or  about  $1.30,  you  can  secure  a  comfortable 
berth,  nicely  made  up  in  your  compartment,  with  clean 
linen. 

The  black  porter  with  his  whisk  brush  is  not  at  all  in 
evidence,  for  there  is  no  dust  in  these  trains,  at  least  in 
winter  time,  and  the  white  porter  who  makes  up  your 
bed,  who  is,  I  suspect,  also  a  brakeman,  is  never  seen 
except  night  and  morning,  when  he  makes  and  unmakes 
it.  When  you  alight  you  never  hear  the  familiar  phrase, 
"Brush  you  off,  sah?"  and  you  have  to  search  for  your 


so  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

bed-maker  if  you  desire  to  slip  a  kroner  into  his  hand  — 
a  piece  of  superogatory  generosity  which  quite  surprises 
him. 

Something  over  an  hour  after  leaving  Stockholm  on 
our  journey  north  we  came  to  the  famous  old  university 
city  of  Upsala,  but  I  could  not  stop  here  if  I  wished  to 
see  the  Midday  Moon,  and  shall  have  to  go  back  at  some 
future  day  in  order  to  tell  you  about  this  most  interest- 
ing historic  town  in  Sweden,  the  burial  place  of  Gustavus 
Vasa  and  the  depository  of  one  of  the  world's  chief 
philological  treasures,  the  Codex  Argenteus. 

The  Lapland  express  leaves  Stockholm  at  6.30  in  the 
evening,  which  at  this  time  of  the  year  is  several  hours 
after  dark,  and  it  was  not  until  the  next  morning,  be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'clock,  that  the  landscape  became 
visible;  yet  the  first  signs  of  dawn  come  wonderfully 
early  in  these  northern  latitudes,  considering  how  near 
we  are  to  the  land  of  perpetual  night.  By  eight  o'clock 
in  the  morning  one  has  a  suspicion  that  the  sun  is 
somewhere  far,  far  below  the  horizon.  By  nine  o'clock 
the  suspicion  deepens  into  a  certainty,  and  by  ten 
o'clock  on  your  side  of  the  arctic  circle,  where  I  found 
myself  early  on  the  morning  after  leaving  Stockholm, 
the  tiniest  rim  of  the  sun  may  be  seen  peering  above  the 
horizon,  as  though  imcertain  whether  it  were  worth 
while  to  go  the  rest  of  the  way  or  not. 

I  wish  I  had  counted  the  number  of  minutes  he  re- 
quired to  fairly  get  above  the  horizon  after  showing  his 
first  segment.  I  remember  that  once  in  Iceland  I  timed 
the  setting  sun,  and  it  took  him  just  seven  minutes  to 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  51 

sink  below  the  horizon.  You  remember  how  in  the 
tropics  he  plumps  down  and  up,  as  we  have  seen  him  in 
South  America  and  in  India.  For  a  shrewd  Yankee 
guess  I  would  say  that  it  takes  Phoebus  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  minutes  to  really  rise  and  shake  out  his  golden 
locks  in  Lapland,  in  wintertime. 

The  day  was  a  short  one,  at  least  the  daylight  day  — 
not  more  than  six  hours  in  length;  but  what  a  glorious 
day  it  was !  The  fairies  were  at  work  while  I  slept  and 
trimmed  every  twig  and  pine  needle  and  every  spray  on 
every  bush  with  thick,  white  rime.  Once  in  a  lifetime 
one  sees  such  a  sight  in  America,  and  then  not  in  its 
perfection.  In  Sweden  it  is  an  everyday  occurrence, 
but  it  is  always  inexpressibly  lovely.  So  lavish  are  these 
frosty  decorations  that  no  humblest  stump  or  fence  rail 
is  omitted.  It  is  no  little  layer  of  frost  either  that  you 
have  to  examine  with  the  microscope  in  order  to  see  its 
beauties,  but  a  thick  and  heavy  fringe,  often  fully  two 
inches  deep.  Neither  is  it  an  evanescent  creation,  for, 
as  the  low-running  sun  is  not  very  powerful,  it  does  not 
melt  until  well  along  toward  high  noon,  and  there  is  no 
wind  to  dissipate  it. 

Even  when  this  glory  of  the  morning  frost  is  gone,  the 
snow  still  remains  on  all  the  larger  branches  of  the  trees, 
and  one  misses  only  the  fine  tracery  of  the  frost,  which 
brings  out  in  marvelous  black  and  white  the  wonders 
of  this  rarely  beautiful  scene. 

The  views  on  this  journey  are  seldom  imposing  and 
grand.  There  are  no  Alps,  and  even  our  own  White 
Mountains  eclipse  in  majesty  anything  that  I  have  seen 


52  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

in  northern  Sweden.  For  the  most  part  the  landscape 
is  a  peaceful,  pastoral  one.  Little  farmhouses  with  their 
cluster  of  outbuildings  abound,  the  stables  for  the  cattle 
and  the  hardy  horses  being  built  as  warm  as  for  the 
hardy  men  and  women.  The  smoke  curls  up  straight 
toward  the  zenith  and  hangs  like  a  cloudy  pillar  over 
every  chinmey.  The  people  who  come  to  the  railway 
stations  are  healthy  and  ruddy.  Most  of  them  come  on 
skis,  and  others  with  kick-sleds,  which  they  shove  be- 
fore them,  standing  upon  one  runner;  often  they  make 
marvelously  good  time,  even  with  a  heavy  load  on  the 
sled. 

These  farmhouses  look  so  attractive  with  their  dull 
red  walls  and  green  roofs  that  I  often  wished  the  train 
would  stop  and  let  me  visit  them.  But  I  have  seen 
enough  of  them  to  know  how  they  look  inside.  They 
are  usually  one  story  high.  In  the  middle  is  a  large 
living  room  with  two  or  three  smaller  rooms  opening 
out  of  it.  This  living  room  is  parlor  and  dining  room, 
and  sometimes  kitchen  as  well,  and  not  infrequently,  if 
you  look  carefully,  you  will  see  two  little  alcoves,  one 
on  either  side,  covered  with  a  curtain  during  the  day. 
These,  you  must  know,  are  the  bedrooms,  or  bed 
alcoves.  The  hole  in  the  wall  is  just  big  enough  to  con- 
tain a  single  bed,  while  the  baby's  cradle  is  hung  near 
the  mother's  bed,  from  a  rafter  in  the  ceiling,  and  a 
touch  of  the  hand  will  set  it  swinging.  The  walls  are 
himg  with  rude  but  interesting  tapestries,  made  by  the 
housewife  herself  and  representing  Bible  scenes,  or 
sometimes  more  familiar  landscapes.    Do  you  remember 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  53 

how  we  saw  just  such  a  room  in  Cavalla,  the  old  Neapolis 
of  St.  Paul,  and  the  famous  Mahomet  All's  cradle  hang- 
ing from  the  roof  in  just  that  way? 

In  Skansen,  a  beautiful  park  near  Stockholm,  where 
are  preserved  things  characteristically  Swedish  from 
all  parts  of  the  kingdom,  one  may  see  houses  of  the 
fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  built  on  exactly  the 
same  plan,  only  that  the  modern  farmhouse  is  ampler 
and  cleaner  and  has  many  conveniences  which  the  Goth 
of  olden  times  would  have  doubtless  considered  effemi- 
nate luxury.  I  wonder  what  he  would  have  said  if  he 
had  heard  the  tinkle  of  a  telephone  bell,  as  he  might 
to-day  in  many  a  Swedish  farmhouse,  and  had  been  told 
that  way  up  beyond  the  Arctic  circle  he  could  speak 
into  a  little  tube  against  the  wall  and  be  heard  distinctly 
in  Stockholm  or  Chris tiania,  or  Berlin  or  Paris,  for  that 
matter. 

But  I  am  getting  ahead  of  my  story,  and  this  railway 
ride  is  so  delightful  that  I  cannot  bear  to  have  you,  any 
more  than  myself,  lose  a  mile  of  it.  Though  the  scenery 
for  the  most  part  is  not  majestic,  at  times  it  grows  bold 
and  striking.  Some  hills  of  considerable  size  appear 
upon  the  horizon.  Charming  valleys  open  up  between 
them,  where  the  frequency  of  farmhouses  shows  that 
the  soil  is  peculiarly  fertile.  Wide,  brawling  rivers  rush 
to  the  sea  so  impetuously  that  even  arctic  cold  cannot 
fetter  them.  There  are  hours  of  such  scenery,  which 
satisfy  the  desire  of  the  most  romantic  imagination; 
yet  for  the  most  part  there  is  a  mild  and  subdued  loveli- 
ness about  the  view  from  our  car  windows  which  has  its 


S4  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

own  peculiar  charm  and  which  needs  no  precipitous 
cliffs  or  bleak  mountainsides  or  cavernous  gorges  to 
enhance  its  beauty.  .  i 

At  last  we  came  to  one  of  the  most  interesting  stations 
in  the  world.  It  is  not  very  grand,  to  be  sure,  and  it  is 
half  buried  in  snow,  and  you  see  scarcely  a  house  in  the 
vicinity.  But  it  is  exactly  on  the  arctic  circle,  and 
rejoices  in  the  appropriate  name  of  Polcirkeln.  I  almost 
hugged  myself  as  a  polar  explorer  until  I  looked  aroimd 
at  my  comfortable  surroundings  —  luxurious  plush  seats, 
a  temperature  of  exactly  68°  according  to  the  thermome- 
ter in  my  compartment,  the  soft  glow  of  the  electric 
lamp  overhead  when  the  early  twilight  appears. 

Someone  who  has  written  of  these  winter  days  in  the 
far  north  says:  "It  is  not  the  cold  and  snow  that  make 
the  northern  winter  dreary;  cold  and  snow  are  invigor- 
ating and  exhilarating.  It  is  the  short  days  and  leaden 
skies;  the  long  darkness  and  the  gloom;  the  perpetual 
sense  of  being  pursued  by  the  dark  as  by  a  nightmare; 
the  perpetual  hurry  by  day  to  accomplish  something 
before  the  darkness  overtakes  you;  and  the  ever- 
present,  imformed,  unreasoning,  lurking  fear,  strongest 
in  December,  lest  the  life-giving  sun  leave  you  forever." 

But  I  must  say  that  I  have  never  felt  this  depression 
of  spirits  in  the  far  north.  For  the  most  part  the  skies 
are  not  leaden,  but  the  long  dawn  and  the  longer  twi- 
light paint  them  with  all  imaginable  colors  with  which 
the  rainbow  can  scarcely  vie.  Why  should  one  be  in  a 
perpetual  hurry  in  such  a  land?  There  are  twenty-four 
hours  in  the  day  here  as  in  the  tropics.     Most  things 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  55 

you  can  do  by  electric  light  as  well  as  by  daylight,  and 
there  is  plenty  of  the  former,  not  only  on  the  trains  but 
in  every  considerable  town.  As  for  the  fear  that  the 
sun  will  never  rise  again,  even  if  you  do  not  see  him  for 
a  month  he  gives  you  abundant  evidence  that  he  is  just 
below  the  horizon  and  that  you  will  soon  see  his  cheer- 
ful face  again. 

Of  course  I  had  three  square  meals  during  this  arctic 
day,  and  even  beyond  Polcirkeln  in  this  wilderness  of 
ice  and  snow  the  railway  restaurants  flow  with  meta- 
phorical milk  and  honey.  But  I  have  already  described 
a  Swedish  railway  eating-house,  and  I  will  only  tell  you 
now  that  when  I  came  to  pay  my  modest  bill  at  a 
restaurant  well  into  Lapland  the  pretty  cashier,  when 
she  saw  that  I  spoke  '' American,"  beamed  all  over  with 
delight  and  exclaimed  in  rapturous  joy:  ''When  did  you 
come  over,  and  how  are  all  the  folks?  "  In  the  remaining 
minutes  before  the  train  started  I  learned  that  she  had 
lived  for  several  years  in  America,  where  she  had  many 
relatives,  and  that  she  had  only  just  returned  to  her 
arctic  home.  I  was  glad  to  inform  her  that  all  the  folks 
in  America  were  well,  so  far  as  my  knowledge  extended. 
This  artless  little  piece  of  Americanism  amid  the  snows 
of  Sweden  brightened  the  journey  for  many  an  hour. 

And  here,  dear  Judicia,  I  think  I  must  end  the  story 
of  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  travel  days.  To-morrow 
I  will  tell  you  something  of  what  I  have  seen  in  Kiruna 
and  its  wonderful  mountain  of  solid  iron. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


SIXTH  LETTER 

In  this  chapter  Phillips  describes  a  day  without  a  sunrise;  his 
anxiety  lest  the  sun  should  appear;  the  wonderful  beauties  of 
sunrise  and  sunset  where  the  sun  never  appears ;  the  fitful  glories 
of  the  aurora  borealis;  the  daily  bombardment  of  Kiruna;  the 
great  iron  mountain  from  which  the  bombardment  comes ;  Luled, 
the  metropolis  of  the  north,  and  a  Lapp  encampment  in  winter. 

Kiruna,  January  14. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  wonder  if,  when  you  were  a  girl,  you  were  as  much 
fascinated  by  Bayard  Taylor's  travel  books  as  I  was. 
Did  you  read  Views  Afoot,  and  especially  did  you  gloat 
over  his  Northern  Travels?  If  you  did,  you  remember 
how  when  he  got  up  toward  the  borders  of  the  arctic 
circle,  though  he  did  not  get  nearly  as  far  north  as 
Kiruna,  he  went  out  of  his  hotel  door  one  morning  and 
found  that  the  thermometer  had  sunk  to  forty  degrees 
below  zero.  Do  you  remember  with  what  a  sort  of 
rapture  he  recorded  this  fact,  as  though  he  had  now 
actually  reached  the  land  of  the  aurora  borealis,  and 
how  he  seemed  to  revel  in  every  degree  that  the  mercury 
sank?  I  will  not  be  sure  of  the  exact  degree  of  cold  that 
so  rejoiced  his  soul,  for  I  have  not  read  my  Bayard 
Taylor  for  many  a  year,  but  I  was  conscious  of  an  ex- 
perience something  like  his  when  I  went  out  on  the  crisp, 
frosty  streets  of  Kiruna  this  morning  and  watched  for 
the  sim  which  I  devoutly  hoped  would  not  rise. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  57 

By  nine  o'clock  the  sky  had  begun  to  glow  faintly. 
I  wandered  about  the  streets,  keeping  my  eye  on  the 
eastern  horizon  as  earnestly  as  a  good  Mohammedan 
faces  toward  Mecca.  Moment  by  moment  the  glow, 
which  was  at  first  barely  discernible,  deepened,  and  the 
fleecy  clouds  grew  rosy.  Evidently  something  was 
doing  just  below  the  horizon;  but  very,  very  gradually 
the  dawn  came  on.  By  ten  o'clock  the  sky  was  blushing 
like  a  modest  damsel  in  the  presence  of  her  lover,  but 
still  the  Lord  of  Day  did  not  appear.  Ten  minutes 
after  ten,  twenty  minutes  after,  half -past  ten !  It  seemed 
as  though  the  sun  must  break  above  the  horizon  line 
at  any  moment,  but  still  he  delayed  his  coming,  while 
all  along  the  east,  and  far  up  toward  the  zenith,  the 
sky  was  flushed  with  such  a  light,  it  seemed  to  me,  as 
never  was  on  sea  or  shore. 

Twenty  minutes  of  eleven,  and  still  he  did  not  appear; 
ten  minutes  of  eleven,  and  I  could  see  that  the  sunrise 
glories  were  a  trifle  dimmed,  and  a  little  to  the  north  the 
beginning  of  the  glorious  pageant  that  attends  the  set- 
ting Sim.  Eleven  o'clock  came,  and  I  was  sure  of  it. 
The  sun  was  setting  and  not  rising.  Though  the  skies 
were  all  aflame,  and  sunset  mingled  with  the  dawn,  it 
was  very  evident  that  old  Sol  would  not  show  his  face  in 
Kinma  to-day.  Hurrah!  I  have  got  beyond  the  sun- 
rise.   I  am  in  the  land  of  the  Midday  Moon! 

And  why  is  it  not  as  notable  a  thing  to  see  a  day  with- 
out a  sunrise  as  to  see  a  day  without  a  sunset?  Why 
do  not  people  travel  to  northern  Sweden  or  Norway  to 
see  the  Midday  Moon,  as  well  as  the  Midnight  Sun? 


58  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

I  venture  to  say  that  the  phenomena  of  midwinter  are 
even  more  glorious  than  those  of  midsummer.  I  cannot 
imagine  that  one  would  see  any  such  wonderful  sky 
tints  in  summer  as  in  winter.  For  hours  the  sun's 
beams  played  upon  the  feathery  clouds  of  pale  blue 
sky  and  constantly  changed  them  from  glory  to  glory. 

At  one  time  the  briUiant  tints  predominated  and  the 
splashes  of  golden  color  lighting  up  the  white  snow 
put  even  Turner's  pictures  to  the  blush.  After  many 
minutes  these  fiery  colors  changed  to  exquisite  green 
and  blue,  and  broken,  opalescent  hues  adorned  the 
clouds.  Then  a  red  gleam  showed  under  one  dark  blue 
cloud.  The  sun  seemed  to  simimon  all  its  strength  for 
one  last  burst  of  glory,  and  the  western  sky,  which  I 
thought  had  passed  its  acme,  glowed  once  more  with  a 
deep  red,  as  though  some  vast  furnace  were  throwing 
its  hidden  light  upon  the  clouds.  For  more  than  four 
hours  this  wonderful  display  lasted,  as  sunrise  faded  into 
simset,  and  it  was  not  until  nearly  three  o'clock  this 
afternoon  that  the  last  beam  of  day  had  entirely  faded. 

But  the  beauty  of  the  scene  did  not  consist  altogether 
in  the  glorious  colors  of  the  sunset.  All  the  accesso- 
ries have  made  it  forever  memorable.  As  I  walked  to 
the  top  of  a  httle  eminence  near  Kiruna,  the  stillness 
could  almost  be  felt.  A  dog  barking  half  a  mile  away 
was  distinctly  audible.  The  axes  of  the  workmen  whom 
I  left  building  a  log-house  as  I  tramped  on  through  the 
snow  and  climbed  the  hillside  made  a  melodious  tap- 
ping, which  could  be  heard  as  far  as  the  dog's  bark. 

The  trees  everywhere  were  loaded  with  their  beau- 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  59 

tiful  burden  of  snow.  The  pines  and  birches  seemed  in 
the  dim  light  of  the  setting  sun  to  have  blossomed  out 
like  cherry  trees  in  May.  The  mercury  registered  only 
a  little  below  zero,  or  perhaps  some  forty  degrees  of 
frost,  according  to  Celsius,  by  whose  thermometers  the 
Swedes  swear,  for  I  have  found  no  such  cold  weather  as 
that  in  which  Bayard  Taylor  revelled.  But  the  zero  air 
was  so  dry  and  still  that  the  ordinary  clothes  which  I 
foimd  necessary  and  none  too  much  for  Boston  east 
winds  were  entirely  sufficient. 

As  I  came  down  the  hill,  the  workmen  were  still 
busy  on  their  log  house  in  the  deepening  twilight.  A 
Yankee  in  a  white  slouch  hat  must  be  a  rarity  in  these 
altitudes  in  winter,  but  they  did  not  pause  in  their  work 
or  exhibit  any  curiosity  at  the  sight  of  an  outlander. 
Perhaps  their  natures  partake  of  the  largeness  and 
soHtude  of  their  great  forests  and  snow  fields,  and  they 
are  not  moved  by  the  curiosity  which  affects  other 
mortals.  After  watching  them  for  a  few  moments,  I  left 
them  fitting  their  logs  together  without  nails  or  spikes, 
sawing  and  cutting  with  bare  hands  in  this  zero  weather 
as  though  it  were  balmy  June. 

But  even  when  the  last  ray  of  the  setting  sun  (which 
had  never  risen)  had  faded  away,  the  glories  of  the 
Arctic  night  did  not  disappear.  Indeed  they  had  but 
just  begun,  for  the  aurora  borealis  began  to  shoot  out 
its  wavy  lines  of  fire  in  the  northern  sky.  Higher  and 
higher  the  waves  mounted  toward  the  zenith,  until  they 
arched  overhead.  Palpitating  like  a  living  thing,  the 
white  would  change  to  green,  and  the  green  to  a  reddish 


6o  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

glow,  and  all  the  time  the  streamers  that  seemed  to  be 
shooting  up  as  from  a  mighty  volcano  on  either  side  of 
the  North  Pole  waved  and  wavered  like  banners  in  the 
wind;  now  being  folded  in  upon  themselves,  then 
flaimted  out  to  their  full  width,  as  though  Erebus  him- 
self were  blowing  upon  them. 

But  the  interests  of  Kiruna  are  not  altogether  centered 
in  the  far  horizon.  At  half-past  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  again  at  half-past  four  in  the  afternoon, 
I  was  startled  by  a  series  of  tremendous  explosions. 
They  could  not  be  thunderclaps,  for  there  were  few 
clouds  in  the  sky  and  not  the  slightest  indication  of 
a  storm. 

Over  and  over  again  the  thundering  volleys  rolled,  and 
as  I  looked  toward  the  west  I  could  see  a  vivid  flash  in 
the  darkness  preceding  the  thunderclap  by  some  seconds. 
And  yet  the  flash  and  the  thimder  did  not  seem  to  come 
from  the  sky,  but  from  a  massive  hill,  which  bulked  dimly 
against  the  horizon,  across  an  intervening  valley.  You 
have  already  guessed  what  the  bombardment  was.  It 
came  from  the  mighty  iron  mountain  of  Kinma  and  was 
the  explosion  of  the  dynamite  charges  which  every 
morning  and  every  afternoon  are  set  off  to  loosen  the 
ore.  More  like  a  rapid-fire  Catling  gun  perhaps  than 
like  thunderclaps  the  explosions  became,  after  the  first 
few  shots,  and  from  various  parts  of  the  mountain,  high 
up  and  low  down,  and  to  the  right  and  the  left,  one  could 
see  the  dull  flashes  and  hear  the  reverberating  roar, 
scores  of  shots  every  minute,  until  perhaps  two  hundred 
had  been  fired. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  6i 

This  iron  mountain  accounts  for  a  lot  of  things  in  this 
part  of  the  world.  This  was  the  magnet  which  drew  the 
railway,  the  most  northerly  railway  on  the  face  of  the 
earth,  up  so  far  through  the  dreary  Lapland  wilds. 
Do  not  suppose  for  a  moment  that  the  Swedes  were  so 
philanthropic  as  to  build  the  road  for  the  sake  of  a  few 
Americans  who  wanted  to  see  the  Midday  Moon  or  the 
Midnight  Sun  (for  you  must  know  that  you  can  see  his 
Majesty  from  the  top  of  ICiruna's  iron  mountain  all  day 
long  if  you  happen  to  be  there  any  day  during  the 
latter  part  of  June).  No,  it  was  this  great  loadstone 
mountain  that  compelled  the  thrifty  Swedes  to  build  a 
railway  through  the  snow  a  thousand  miles  north  of 
Stockholm.  Their  enterprise  was  well  repaid,  for  this 
mountain  is  from  fifty  to  sixty  per  cent  sohd  iron,  and 
the  best  iron  in  the  world. 

From  Kiruna  it  is  transported  nearly  one  hundred  miles 
miles  farther  north  to  Narvik,  across  the  Norwegian 
border,  where  there  is  an  ice-free  port  all  the  year  round, 
and  where  great  ships  are  constantly  waiting  within  its 
quiet  fjord  to  transport  sections  of  Kiruna's  iron  moun- 
tain to  New  York  and  Philadelphia  and  London  and 
Hamburg  and  Boston.  There  is  another  iron  hill  some 
five  or  six  miles  from  Kiruna,  from  which  the  ore  is 
shipped  by  overhead  electric  skids  to  Kiruna  and  thence 
transported  by  rail  to  Narvik.  Indeed  it  is  said  by  geolo- 
gists that  all  the  hills  about  this  little  Arctic  metropolis 
are  fiill  of  iron,  and  they  are  not  Hkely  to  be  exhausted  for 
a  thousand  years  to  come. 

Kiruna  reminds  me  of  a  hustling  American  town  more 


62  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

than  any  other  that  I  have  seen  in  this  part  of  the 
world.  It  is  only  fourteen  years  old,  and  yet  it  has  ten 
thousand  inhabitants;  hundreds  of  well-built  houses;  a 
good  electric  tramway,  which  carries  the  miners  back 
and  forth  from  the  works  on  the  mountain  to  their 
homes  in  the  Httle  city;  four  fine  schoolhouses,  and  a 
big  church  with  a  huge  bell  tower,  situated  at  some 
little  distance  from  the  sanctuary. 

Let  us  not  plimie  ourselves  on  the  thought  that  we 
have  all  the  enterprise  in  the  world,  or  lay  the  flattering 
imction  to  our  souls  that  no  one  else  can  build  a  city  in 
a  decade,  for  here  is  one  with  all  the  conveniences  and 
comforts  and  many  of  the  luxuries  of  Hfe;  and  if  we  go 
another  hundred  miles  farther  north  we  shall  find  a  still 
larger  town,  less  than  twelve  years  old,  with  good  blocks 
of  stores,  large  residences,  and  splendid  wharves,  to 
which  the  commerce  of  the  world  pays  tribute;  for 
Narvik,  where  the  sun  does  not  rise  for  a  month  or  six 
weeks  in  wintertime,  is  even  younger  than  Kirima. 
To-morrow  I  intend  to  go  to  Lulea  (pronounce  it  Luleo, 
for  the  little  circle  over  the  a  gives  it  the  o  soimd),  and  I 
will  finish  this  arctic  letter  there. 


Lulea  on  the  Baltic. 

A  funny,  if  chilly,  experience  awaited  me  when  I  ar- 
rived here  last  night.  It  was  well  on  toward  midnight, 
and,  though  a  crowd  of  fellow  passengers  disembarked 
from  the  third-class  cars,  there  was  no  hotel  porter  or 
trager  or  dienstman  to  tell  me  where  I  should  go.    My 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  63 

somewhat  aged  Baedeker  had  not  informed  me  of  the 
name  of  a  single  hotel. 

The  only  individual  who  took  any  interest  in  me  was 
a  small  boy,  and  from  his  voluble  Swedish  and  more 
comprehensible  gestures  I  felt  that  he  wished  to  lead 
me  to  a  hotel.  Having  nothing  better  to  do,  I  followed 
my  diminutive  guide.  It  was  very  cold,  at  least  twenty 
degrees  below  zero,  the  severest  weather  I  have  seen  at 
all  in  this  northland.  The  streets  were  dark,  for  most 
of  the  electric  lights  had  been  put  out,  but  I  followed  the 
small  boy  trustingly.  When  I  seemed  to  waver  in  my 
allegiance,  he  would  run  back  and  urge  me  on.  At  last 
we  came  to  a  house  which  had  few  signs  of  being  a  hos- 
telry. I  suspect  it  was  his  mother's  humble  residence.  I 
followed  him  in  at  the  door,  and  he  discoursed  fluently 
to  the  lady  of  the  house,  apparently  telling  her  of  my 
needs.  She  looked  quite  as  blank  as  I  did,  but  at  last 
she  opened  a  door  into  a  somewhat  shabby  parlor  and 
gave  me  to  understand  that  I  could  sleep  on  the  lounge 
if  I  wished  to. 

I  declined  the  invitation,  for  I  remembered  having 
passed  in  the  dark  a  house  that  looked  more  like  a  hotel. 
Going  back  through  the  frosty  air,  I  soon  found  It,  and 
over  the  door  made  out  the  legend  Privat  Hotellet, 
Here,  much  to  my  joy,  I  found  a  large  room,  nicely 
heated,  with  two  beds,  a  huge,  white  monument  of  a 
stove,  and  a  whole  picture  gallery,  though  not  all  by  the 
old  masters,  on  the  wall,  and  all  this  for  seventy-five 
cents  a  day.  To  be  sure  I  could  get  neither  bite  nor  sup 
in  this  Privat  Hotellet,  but  what  did  that  matter  when 


64  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

almost  at  the  next  door  I  found,  in  the  morning,  a 
restaurant  on  whose  generous  tables  were  piled 
mounds  of  butter,  stacks  of  oat  cakes  at  least  two 
feet  high,  a  peck  of  small  potatoes,  unlimited  milk 
and  cofifee,  pickled  fish,  fried  fish,  cold  meat,  every- 
thing on  the  most  lavish  scale,  and  all  for  sixty  drCy 
or  fifteen  cents? 

But  you  should  have  seen  my  fellow  boarders  eat! 
They  were  all  hardy  tars,  who  had  sailed  the  Baltic  for 
many  a  year,  when  the  ice  does  not  interfere  with  their 
trade,  and  the  way  they  made  those  viands  disappear 
was  a  caution  to  a  dyspeptic.  Even  Aylmer,  who  has 
just  joined  me  here  on  his  way  south  from  northern 
Norway  (did  I  forget  to  give  you  this  interesting  piece 
of  information,  Judicia?),  could  not  keep  up  with  them. 
He  said  that  they  could  give  the  boys  in  the  college 
commons  a  good  handicap  and  then  beat  them  in  the 
race  through  the  breakfast,  hands  down  —  but  then 
they  had  the  advantage  of  being  able  to  use  both  knife 
and  fork  with  equal  dexterity. 

Lulei,  as  you  have  already  gathered,  is  on  the  banks 
of  the  Baltic;  in  fact,  it  is  on  its  extreme  northern 
shore,  and  the  sea  here  is  so  charged  with  fresh  water 
from  the  more  than  two  hundred  rivers  that  flow  into 
it  from  the  Swedish  and  the  Finnish  shores  that  it  is  like 
a  great  fresh-water  lake,  and  freezes  in  its  northern  end 
as  solidly  as  Moosehead  or  Winnepesaukee.  As  we 
wandered  down  to  the  shore  the  next  morning  after 
our  hotel  adventure,  we  could  see  nothing  but  a  vast 
expanse  of  snow-covered  ice.  Only  a  few  large  schooners 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  65 

and  small  steamers,  frozen  solidly  into  the  ice,  con- 
vinced us  that  this  was  indeed  the  Baltic  Sea. 

Lulea  is  a  very  presentable  town,  quite  the  metropolis 
of  this  part  of  the  world.  Many  of  the  blocks  are  of 
brick  and  stone.  A  splendid  church  of  cathedral  dimen- 
sions stands  in  the  center  of  the  town,  broad  streets 
lined  with  well-built  houses  radiate  from  it  on  every 
side,  and  an  enormous  hotel  overlooking  the  Baltic 
makes  an  attractive  bid  for  summer  visitors,  though  at 
this  time  of  year  it  is  closed  as  tight  as  a  bank  vault. 

I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  about  the  glorious  snow 
and  frost  of  Lulea.  We  have  seen  it  everywhere  through- 
out northern  Sweden,  as  I  have  before  told  you,  but 
never  in  such  absolute  perfection  as  in  this  favored  town. 
This  is,  indeed,  the  Spell  of  Sweden.  The  slight  fogs 
which  often  envelop  this  region  for  a  little  time  and  then 
disappear  leave  their  beautiful  frescoing  upon  every  tree 
and  bush  and  telegraph  wire  and  fence  post.  Rather, 
perhaps,  I  should  say  they  do  the  work  of  a  sculptor  and 
transform  everything  into  pure  white  marble.  Every 
smallest  twig  is  covered  thick  with  rime,  never  less  than 
two  inches  deep.  Strike  the  tree  a  sharp  blow  with  your 
cane  and  a  perfect  shower  of  snow  will  descend,  pow- 
dering you  from  head  to  foot,  unless  you  quickly  stand 
from  imder.  But  the  next  morning  the  tree  will  be 
covered  once  more  by  this  invisible  sculptor  with  pow- 
dery marble,  and  again  it  stands  statuesque  and  lovely 
in  its  immaculate  white  against  the  sky. 

When  the  rime  is  not  so  thick,  magical  nature  trans- 
forms the  trees  and  shrubs  into  white  coral,  and  the 


66  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

little  arctic  bushes,  which  can  never  grow  to  any 
great  height,  stand  up  above  the  snow  in  such  a 
way  that  you  can  scarcely  believe  that  some  ancient 
sea  has  not  receded  and  left  a  forest  of  coral  exposed 
to  view. 

The  only  spot  of  color  in  this  white  wilderness  is  made 
by  the  mountain-ash  tree  which  the  Luleans  have  in- 
duced to  grow  in  one  of  their  parks.  These  trees  are 
covered  thickly  with  bright  red  berries,  which  the  Eng- 
lish sparrows  —  unfortunately  even  the  Arctic  cold  and 
snows  cannot  drive  them  away  —  rejoice  in.  They  pick 
out  the  kernels  of  the  berries  and  cover  the  snow  beneath 
with  the  blood-red  husks. 

One  most  delightful  excursion  we  must  take  you  upon. 
It  can  be  made  from  almost  any  point  in  Lapland,  but 
Lulei  is  as  good  a  starting  point  as  any.  It  is  a  visit 
to  the  nomadic  Lapps  who  abound  in  this  region.  We 
often  see  these  Httle  fellows,  with  their  yellow  faces, 
about  the  color  of  snuff,  of  which  I  understand  they  are 
inordinately  fond,  and  their  slanting  Mongohan  eyes, 
as  they  come  into  the  towns  with  their  reindeer  hitched 
to  long  sledges.  These  patient  animals  furnish  them 
with  almost  all  that  they  need  —  meat  and  tents  and 
clothing  and  milk;  thread  made  from  their  sinews  and 
needles  from  their  bones.  When  the  Lapps  want  a  little 
money  for  tobacco  or  coffee  they  drive  a  deer  into  the 
neighboring  town  and  sell  him  for  whatever  his  carcass 
will  bring. 

But  you  must  see  them  in  their  native  habitat  to 
really  know  the  Lapps.    So  we  hired  a  sledge  whose  low 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &"  Underwood,  X.  V. 


Reindeer  and  Lapps  from  North  Sweden,  now  in  Skansen 
Park,  Stockholm. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  67 

runners  raise  one  but  a  few  inches  from  the  crisp  snow, 
stuck  our  feet  into  the  abundant  straw,  tucked  around 
us  the  warm  reindeer  robes,  pulled  our  caps  over  our 
ears,  and  told  our  driver  to  do  his  best  to  find  a  Lapp 
camp.  This  is  not  always  easy,  for  the  Lapps  are 
genuine  gypsies  in  their  liking  for  a  nomadic  life,  and 
they  are  here  to-day,  there  to-morrow,  and  somewhere 
else  the  next  day. 

However  our  driver  had  an  idea  in  what  direction  they 
might  be  found,  and,  after  half  a  dozen  English  miles, 
or  about  one  Swedish  mile,  we  heard  a  tremendous 
barking  of  dogs  and  knew  that  we  were  approaching 
our  goal,  for  the  one  indispensable  quadruped,  aside  from 
the  reindeer,  in  a  Lapp  encampment,  is  a  barking  dog, 
and  often  a  good  many  of  him.  It  was  not  a  large  camp, 
only  a  single  family  of  Lapps  with  perhaps  twenty  or 
thirty  reindeer  and  half  a  dozen  dogs.  Their  only 
shelter,  even  when  the  mercury  reaches  fifty  below  zero, 
is  this  reindeer-skin  tent,  with  a  hole  in  the  top  and 
quite  loose  aroimd  the  sides. 

A  miserable  fire  burned  in  the  center  of  the  tent,  and 
some  of  the  smoke  found  its  way  through  the  hole  in 
the  top.  But  hospitality  is  not  unknown  even  in  these 
snowy  wilds,  and  our  hosts  at  once  set  to  work  to  make 
us  a  cup  of  coffee,  their  one  luxury,  which  they  knew 
their  visitors  would  appreciate.  To  be  sure  the  cup  and 
coffeepot  looked  almost  as  dirty  as  the  faces  of  our 
hosts,  but  who  minds  a  few  microbes  more  or  less  among 
the  millions  you  are  constantly  swallowing.  To  be  sure, 
also,  our  hosts  expected  a  gift  of  several  times  the  value 


68  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

of  the  cup  of  coffee,  but  that  was  purely  a  gift  and  not 
by  any  means  payment  for  value  received. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  fell  in  love  with  the  Lapps  or  their 
surroundings,  but  I  must  confess  that  I  conceived  a 
new  admiration  for  the  missionary  spirit  of  Prince  Ber- 
nadotte,  the  brother  of  the  King  of  Sweden,  who  I  un- 
derstand has  sometimes  come  to  this  far  north  region 
to  preach  to  the  Laplanders. 

He  once  informed  me  that  the  only  time  he  was  ever 
in  Russia  was  when  he  stepped  across  the  boundary 
of  Swedish  Lapland  into  Finnish  Lapland,  and  then  only 
a  few  feet  on  the  other  side.  I  suppose  that  a  Swedish 
prince  would  very  likely  be  persona  non  grata  in  the 
dominions  of  the  reactionary  Czar. 

A  half-hour  in  the  Lapp  settlement  was  enough  for  a 
complete  disillusionment  concerning  the  joys  of  no- 
madic life  in  Lapland,  and  we  were  glad  to  turn  our 
faces  once  more  toward  the  thriving  Httle  metropoKs 
of  the  north  Baltic. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


SEVENTH  LETTER 

Contains  a  glimpse  of  the  history  of  Sweden  as  suggested  by  the 
monuments  of  Stockhohn;  Birger  Jarl;  Bridget,  the  saint  with- 
out a  montraient;  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  champion  of  Protes- 
tantism; Charles  XII,  who  conquered  half  of  Europe;  Linnaeus, 
the  lover  of  flowers;  John  Ericsson,  the  inventor  of  the  "  Monitor." 

Stockholm,  January  17. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

My  last  letter  left  us  in  a  Lapp  camp  on  the  northern 
edge  of  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia,  surrounded  by  dirty  Lapps, 
yelping  dogs,  and  ruminating  reindeer;  and  here  I  am, 
after  three  days,  in  Stockholm  again,  while  Aylmer  has 
gone  back  to  his  beloved  Norway,  striking  across  Sweden 
and  over  the  mountain  by  rail  to  Trondhjem,  since  he 
was  unwilling,  as  he  said,  to  "waste  any  time  in  Sweden." 

Imagine,  Judicia,  the  superciliousness  of  youth!  To 
waste  time  in  Sweden,  the  land  of  heroes  and  patriots, 
the  land  of  Gustavus  Adolphus  and  Charles  XII,  the 
land  that  saved  northern  Europe  for  liberty  and  freedom 
of  conscience.    Wasting  time  in  Sweden,  indeed! 

What  should  you  say  to  the  idea  of  studying  a  little 
Swedish  history  with  me,  with  the  help  of  the  monu- 
ments of  Stockholm?  Some  people,  I  know,  consider 
monuments  a  great  bore  and  hasten  by  them  with 
scarcely  a  glance,  but  that  is  because  they  do  not  know 
the  delightful  stories  that  they  can  tell  with  their 
bronze  or  marble  lips. 


70  THE  CHARlVl   OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Let  us  first  call  upon  Birger  Jarl.  We  find  him  on 
Riddarholmen,  standing  erect  on  a  lofty  marble  pillar, 
with  his  shield  and  his  sword,  his  steel  armor  and  his 
helmet,  looking  down  from  his  lofty  pedestal  as  though 
he  would  say  to  us:  "What  have  I  to  do  with  you,  up- 
start Americans,  you  children  of  a  day,  whose  nearest 
western  shore  even  was  not  discovered  by  Columbus  for 
more  than  two  hundred  years  after  I  sailed  the  seas  in 
my  viking  ships." 

The  great  Jarl  seems  to  have  been  the  first  one  to 
have  discovered  the  impregnable  position  which  Stock- 
holm's islands  offered  for  defense.  To  be  sure  there  was 
quite  a  population  on  these  islands  before  Birger's 
time,  but  he  was  a  man  of  far-seeing  vision,  as  his  position 
on  his  lofty  monument  indicates,  so  he  made  of  Stock- 
holm one  great  fort.  On  every  side  it  was  surrounded 
by  water,  the  great  Lake  Malar,  and  the  two  rushing 
rivers  that  carried  its  waters  to  the  Baltic. 

Birger  was  never  anything  but  a  Jarl,  but  he  was  the 
greatest  of  all  the  earls,  and  so  powerful  that  he  was 
able  to  place  his  son  Magnus  above  all  his  brother  earls, 
and  made  him  the  first  king  of  Sweden.  Magnus  was  not 
unworthy  of  his  name,  for  he  too  was  a  great  ruler  for 
those  rude  times,  though  if  the  son  was  Magnus  I 
think  the  father  should  be  called  Major,  if  not  Maximus, 
for  he  really  founded  the  kingdom  of  Sweden,  as  well  as 
the  city  of  Stockholm. 

Sweden  of  course  had  a  history  before  the  days  of 
Birger  and  Magnus,  but  it  is  so  mixed  up  with  that  of 
Norway  and  Denmark,  who  were  really  the  predominant 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  71 

partners  in  those  early  days,  that  I  shall  have  to  resign 
St.  Olaf  and  some  of  the  other  exceedingly  interesting 
worthies  of  that  time  to  the  pen  of  Aylmer,  thus  giving 
him,  my  dear  Judicia,  a  vast  advantage  in  his  efforts  to 
claim  for  Norway  your  favorable  verdict. 

I  must  remark  in  passing,  however,  that  St.  Olaf,  or 
King  Olaf  Haraldson  of  Norway,  to  give  him  his  full 
title,  once  foimd  himself  and  all  his  fleet  shut  up  in 
Lake  Malar  by  chains  stretched  across  its  western  out- 
let. This  was  in  the  year  1007;  so  in  order  to  get  out  of 
his  cul-de-sac,  he  dug  a  shallow  channel  across  a  neck  of 
land  that  prevented  him  from  making  his  way  into 
the  Baltic,  that  he  might  thus  evade  the  clutches  of  Olaf 
Skotkonung  of  Sweden.  Nature  favored  his  project, 
and  the  strong  current  that  sets  from  the  great  lake  to 
the  Baltic  Sea  soon  wore  a  wide  thoroughfare,  through 
which  the  king  and  all  his  ships  escaped  into  the  Baltic 
and  thence  home  to  Norway.  This  channel  made  of  a 
former  peninsula  the  island  of  Staden,  so  that  the  Swedes 
may  thank  St.  Olaf  for  making  one  of  the  three  great 
islands  of  their  capital  which  Birger  Jarl  found  it  so 
easy  to  fortify  and  defend. 

A  monument  that  I  have  been  looking  for  but  have 
not  yet  found,  though  there  may  be  one  somewhere  in 
Stockholm,  is  a  memorial  to  St.  Bridget.  If  any  Swedish 
woman  deserves  a  monument,  surely  it  is  this  same 
saint  "  Birgitta,"  as  she  is  called  in  Swedish.  In  my 
youth  I  naturally  supposed  that  St.  Bridget  was  an 
Irish  lady;  but  she  was  a  pure  Swede,  and  a  Swede  of 
the  mystical  type,  in  some  respects  not  unlike  a  fellow 


72  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

countryman  of  more  modern  days  —  the  great  Sweden- 
borg.  She  devoutly  beHeved  that  she  received  many 
revelations  from  Christ  and  the  Virgin  Mary,  which  are 
preserved  to  this  day  in  large  tomes. 

She  lived  before  the  Reformation,  but  was  none  the 
less  a  reformer  of  the  first  order.  The  rule  of  her  abby, 
which  she  believed  was  enjoined  by  Christ  himself, 
made  chastity,  humility,  and  voluntary  poverty  the 
first  requisites.  "No  member  of  the  convent  could 
possess  the  smallest  piece  of  money,  nor  even  touch 
silver  or  gold  except  when  necessary  for  embroidery,  and 
then  only  after  permission  obtained  from  the  abbess. 
The  nuns  ate  the  simplest  food  and  fasted  three  days 
in  the  week.  To  remind  them  of  their  mortality,  a  bier 
always  stood  at  the  church  door,  and  near  the  cloister 
yawned  an  open  grave.  Thither  these  devout  women 
repaired  every  day,  and  the  abbess  threw  a  handful  of 
earth  into  the  pit,  while  the  sisters  repeated  psalms 
and  prayers."  ^ 

In  these  days,  when  the  social  pendulum  has  swung 
so  far  to  the  other  extreme,  there  is  something  worthily 
heroic  in  this  story  of  good  Birgitta.  There  is  a  tonic  in 
it,  like  a  strong  east  wind,  that  blows  away  the  miasma 
of  modern  social  hfe. 

Whatever  we  may  think  of  her,  she  made  a  tremendous 
impression  upon  Sweden,  an  impression  which  is  fresh 
and  vivid  to  this  day,  as  anyone  who  studies  the  history 
of  Sweden  speedily  discovers.  St.  Bridget  was  a  woman 
of  tremendous  courage.  She  knew  how  to  reprove  the 
^  Honorable  W.  W.  Thomas:  Sweden  and  the  Swedes. 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  73 

Pope  as  well  as  the  King.  Moreover,  her  influence  was 
not  confined  to  Sweden,  for  she  spent  much  time  in 
Rome  and  is  acknowledged  throughout  the  whole 
Catholic  world  as  one  of  their  greatest  saints. 

Again  come  with  me  to  one  of  the  chief  squares  of 
Stockholm,  and  there  we  will  see  the  figure  of  the  noblest 
Swede  of  them  all,  Gustavus  Adolphus,  the  hero  of 
Protestantism,  the  victor  of  a  score  of  hard-fought 
battles.  I  will  not  take  you  to  the  monument  of  Gus- 
tavus Vasa,  the  grandfather  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  for 
we  have  already  traced  his  glorious  career  from  the  days 
when  he  was  a  hunted  fugitive  in  Dalecarlia  to  the  day 
when  he  mounted  in  triumph  the  Swedish  throne  at 
Stockholm. 

But  great  as  was  the  grandfather,  his  grandson 
Adolphus  was  greater  still,  as  a  general,  as  a  reformer, 
as  a  man.  Between  the  days  of  the  grandfather  and  the 
grandson  Sweden  had  thrown  off  the  power  of  the 
Roman  church,  whose  possessions  had  been  seized  by 
the  crown;  and  two  of  the  immediate  disciples  and 
pupils  of  Luther,  the  brothers  Olaus  and  Laurentius 
Petri,  had  firmly  established  the  reformed  religion 
throughout  the  kingdom. 

An  unhappy  interregnum  between  grandfather  Vasa 
and  grandson  Adolphus,  who  ascended  the  throne  in 
161 1,  had  left  Sweden  in  a  parlous  state,  with  foes  with- 
out and  fightings  within.  The  great  king  and  general 
succeeded  in  shutting  out  Russia  from  the  Baltic  and 
capturing  one  of  the  important  provinces  of  Poland, 
Livland,  which  also  bordered  on  the  Baltic.    But  it  was 


74  THE    CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

not  until  1630  that  Gustavus  Adolphus  became  a 
mighty  figure  in  European  history.  For  twelve  years 
the  German  Protestants  had  been  putting  up  a  cour- 
ageous but  losing  fight  with  the  overwhelmingly  superior 
Catholic  forces  of  Europe.  Little  by  Httle  they  had 
been  beaten,  and  their  power  was  being  gradually 
circumscribed. 

"In  1630  it  seemed  as  though  the  continent  of  Europe 
was  hopelessly  doomed  to  fall  beneath  the  united 
supremacy  of  the  Papacy  and  the  Empire.  From  the 
southern  shore  of  the  Baltic  Wallenstein,  the  great 
leader  of  the  imperial  forces,  stretched  his  hand  threat- 
eningly to  grasp  the  Baltic  Sea  and  its  approach,  the 
sound,  which  chief  means  of  conmiunication  with  the 
ocean  had  become  for  Sweden  a  matter  of  vital  import- 
ance to  keep  open.  As  much  to  defend  the  independ- 
ence as  the  Protestantism  of  Sweden,  Gustavus  Adolphus 
was  forced  to  go  to  Germany  and  there  assail  the  enemy 
on  his  own  ground.  Within  the  short  period  of  two 
years  he  succeeded  by  his  brilliancy  both  as  a  warrior 
and  a  statesman  in  changing  the  fate  of  the  world."  ^ 

His  brilliant  exploits  in  Germany  were  confined  to 
two  short  years.  His  great  victory  at  Breitenfeld  in 
1 63 1  was  followed  by  the  battle  of  Liitzen  in  1632, 
which  cost  Sweden  and  the  world  the  victor's  Hfe.  But 
though  the  war  raged  for  sixteen  years  longer,  the  Prot- 
estant cause  was  never  again  hopeless.  The  victory  of 
Adolphus  turned  the  tide,  and  his  noble  personal  friend 
and  chancellor.  Axel  Oxenstierna,  maintained  the 
*  Emil  Svensen:  Sweden* s  Place  in  History. 


.(/  &•  Underwood,  N.V. 


Lion-Guarded  Statue  of  Charles  XIII  in  King's  Garden 
Stockholm. 


C   C      C         c     c 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  75 

prestige  of  Sweden  as  one  of  the  great  powers  of  the 

world,   fully  recognized  in  the  Peace  of  Westphalia, 

which  in  1648  closed  the  bloody  Thirty  Years'  War. 

As  I  stand  before  the  fine  equestrian  statue  of  Gusta- 

vus,  I  take  off  my  hat  to  that  noble  warrior  and  reformer, 

even  though  it  is  frosty  winter  weather,  and,  as  I  look 

at  his  majestic  figure,  I  can  hear  the  Swedish  army  on 

the  battlefield  of  Llitzen  singing  the  king's  own  hymn 

of  triumph: 

"Fear  not,  O  little  flock,  the  foe 
Tha,t  madly  seeks  your  overthrow." 

It  has  been  truly  said  the  "sword  of  Gustavus  Adolphus 
was  mighty  as  the  pen  of  Luther." 

Every  year  on  the  sixth  of  November  a  great  proces- 
sion of  Swedes  with  bands  and  banners,  led  by  the 
famous  choral  societies  of  Stockholm,  proceeds  through 
the  streets  on  a  triumphal  march  to  the  Church  of  the 
Knights,  where  the  great  king  lies  buried,  a  spot  forever 
sacred  to  the  lovers  of  freedom. 

In  the  king's  park  in  Stockholm  we  find  another 
interesting  statue,  that  of  Charles  XII.  He  stands 
with  his  sword  in  one  hand  pointing  with  powerful 
finger  to  the  Baltic,  on  whose  shores  he  gained  his 
greatest  victories. 

As  I  gazed  at  the  noble  statue,  I  thought  how  this 
great-grandson  of  Gustavus  Vasa  came  to  the  throne 
as  a  boy  of  fifteen  years  of  age.  How  three  years  after, 
Russia,  with  Peter  the  Great  for  her  emperor;  Poland, 
then  the  great  power  of  central  Europe;  Saxony  and 
Denmark  all  united  their  forces  to  crush  this  eighteen- 


76  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

year-old  king  and  the  country  for  which  he  fought  so 
bravely.  But  he  was  equal  to  them  all.  One  after 
another  he  conquered  Denmark,  Prussia,  and  Poland 
in  the  field,  and  for  nine  years  with  Sweden,  a  little 
nation  of  only  two  and  a  half  millions  of  people  at  his 
back,  he  held  them  all  at  bay. 

"With  an  army  of  eight  hundred  half-starved,  half- 
frozen  Swedes  on  a  chill  November  morning  he  charged 
upon  forty  thousand  Russians  behind  intrenchments  at 
Narva  and  put  them  to  utter  rout,  taking  in  prisoners 
alone  more  that  double  his  little  army." 

Many  were  his  vicissitudes;  defeated  after  nine 
years  of  victory  by  the  Russians  at  Pultava,  he  had  to 
flee  to  Turkey,  hoping  to  enlist  the  sympathies  of  the 
Sultan  against  the  Russians.  For  five  years  he  remained 
there  in  exile,  and  then,  almost  alone,  in  an  inCtedibly 
short  space  of  time,  made  his  way  across  Europe,  and 
for  years  more  fought  the  battles  of  Sweden  against 
mighty  odds,  but  with  indomitable  courage  and  often 
with  success,  imtil  a  bullet  at  the  battle  of  Fredrikshald 
in  Norway  put  an  end  to  this  heroic  Hfe  and  at  the  same 
time  closed  the  era  of  Sweden's  greatness. 

I  cannot  take  you  to  all  the  statues  of  Stockholm  to- 
day, Judicia,  but  there  are  two  others  which  I  think  we 
must  visit.  As  a  lover  of  flowers  you  would  never  for- 
give me  if  we  did  not  together  make  our  obeisance  be- 
fore the  monument  of  Linnaeus.  It  is  true  that  he  is 
associated  more  particularly  with  Upsala  and  its  uni- 
versity, where  I  hope  later  to  see  his  grave,  but  he  has 
a  worthy  statue  in  Stockholm  in  the  Humlegard.    There 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  77 

he  stands  in  a  benignant  attitude  that  befits  a  great 
naturaKst.  I  am  glad  that  he  is  surrounded  by  the  trees 
and  plants  and  flowers  that  he  loved  so  well  and  did  so 
much  to  make  us  familiar  with. 

When  a  man  is  preeminently  distinguished  in  one  line, 
his  services  to  the  world  in  other  directions  are  apt  to  be 
overlooked.  Linnaeus  was  not  only  a  great  botanist, 
but  a  distinguished  physician  and  a  brilliant  writer 
on  geographical  subjects.  He  traveled  much  through- 
out Sweden,  and  our  knowledge  of  Swedish  Hfe  in  the 
eighteenth  century  is  largely  due  to  his  interesting  and 
accurate  accounts  of  his  travels.  He  is  said  also 
to  have  created  a  new  style  of  Swedish  prose,  and 
to  have  been  as  eminent  as  a  teacher  as  he  was  as  an 
investigator. 

You  would  hardly  recognize  him  under  his  Swedish 
name,  Carolus  a  Ljnne,  or  Carl  von  Linne,  as  he  is  more 
commonly  called.  Linne  was  the  most  prominent 
lecturer  of  his  time,  we  are  told.  "When  he  took  a 
ramble,  discoursing  as  he  went  and  'demonstrating 
Flora's  charming  children'  then  Botany  became  the 
scientia  amabilis,  a  knowledge  of  which  was  an  honor 
for  all,  from  royalty  down  to  the  poorest  peasant." 

As  I  gazed  at  his  statue,  however,  I  could  not  help 
thinking,  with  a  sense  of  mild  pity,  of  the  milHons  of 
school  children  with  no  great  gifts  for  botanical  research 
who  have  struggled  over  the  two  hard  names  which  he 
set  the  fashion  of  assigning  to  every  plant,  one  for  the 
genus  and  one  for  the  species;  and  who  have  studied, 
with  many  a  groan,  his  system  of  identifying  plants 


78  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

which  seem  to  them  as  dry  as  the  herbariums  which  they 
have  been  compelled  to  collect  and  arrange. 

One  other  statue,  among  the  latest  erected  in  Stock- 
holm, is  of  pecuHar  interest  to  Americans,  for  it  com- 
memorates the  man  who,  more  than  any  other  in- 
ventor, saved  the  Union  in  the  terribly  black  days  of 
'63.  This  man  was  Captain  John  Ericsson,  the  son  of 
a  Swedish  miner,  "bom  and  brought  up  in  a  miner's  hut 
in  the  backwoods  of  Sweden. '^  On  Sunday,  September 
14, 1890,  the  body  of  Ericsson  was  given  over  by  America 
to  the  perpetual  care  of  Sweden,  his  native  land.  It 
had  been  brought  from  New  York  in  the  warship 
Baltimore  by  Captain  Schley,  who  afterwards  won  his 
laurels  on  the  coast  of  Cuba. 

The  body  was  placed  on  a  beautiful  pavilion,  directly 
in  front  of  the  statue  of  Charles  XII  and  very  near  one 
of  Stockholm's  principal  quays.  With  solemn  cere- 
monies and  appropriate  words  the  body  was  conveyed 
by  Captain  Schley  to  the  American  Minister,  and  by 
him  given  over  to  the  Swedish  government,  a  Swedish 
admiral  accepting  it  in  behalf  of  his  country. 

All  around  the  catafalque  were  magnificent  floral 
emblems  contributed  by  Americans  and  Swedes  alike, 
and  on  the  coffin  itself  was  SiMonitorma,de  of  immortelles, 
in  the  American  and  Swedish  colors,  a  white  dove  perched 
on  the  turret.  This  was  the  offering  of  the  Swedish- 
American  ladies  who  had  crossed  the  Atlantic  with  the 
body.  After  these  ceremonies  the  coffin  was  borne  in 
state  through  the  streets  of  Stockholm  and  carried  to 
the  little  town  of  Fihpstad,  near  which  he  was  bom. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  79 

On  the  spot  where  the  great  funeral  pavilion  stood,  by 
Stockholm's  quay,  is  now  the  monument  to  the  inventor 
of  the  Monitor  J  the  savior  of  the  American  Union, 
strong  and  massive  as  the  man  whom  it  commemorates. 
It  will  always  be  to  every  American  the  most  admired  of 
Stockholm's  many  statues. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


EIGHTH  LETTER 

Wherein  a  jump  is  made  from  midwinter  to  midsummer,  and  the 
water  journey  from  Stockholm  to  Upsala  is  described,  during 
which  the  palace  of  Drottningholm  is  passed,  and  the  famous 
ruins  of  Sigtuna,  Skokloster  Palace,  with  its  rare  art  treasures, 
imtil  we  reach  Upsala,  the  tmiversity  town  of  Sweden,  the 
"  City  of  Eternal  Youth,"  with  its  thirteen  "  Nations."  Also 
something  about  the  Codex  Argenteus,  the  noble  cathedral  with 
its  noted  graces,  as  well  as  Gamla  Upsala  with  the  tumuli  of 
Odin,  Thor,  and  Frey. 

Upsala,  June  15. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

It  is  a  long  time,  is  it  not,  since  last  I  tried  to  impress 
you  with  the  charm  of  Sweden.  Do  not  think  for  a 
moment,  however,  that  I  have  given  up  the  pleasant 
task.  It  is,  as  you  know,  simply  because  other  duties 
have  interfered  with  the  pleasure  of  telling  you  about 
this  part  of  the  great  northern  peninsula,  and  in  my 
more  brief  and  fragmentary  letters  I  could  not  attempt 
to  do  justice  to  this  interesting  part  of  the  earth's  sur- 
face. Now  it  is  approaching  midsummer,  the  glad,  high 
days  of  all  Scandinavia. 

But  to  go  back  a  little  in  my  story.  What  a  glorious 
season  is  spring  in  these  northern  latitudes!  I  pity  the 
people  who  must  spend  all  their  lives  in  the  tropics  and 
never  know  the  joy  of  seeing  old  mother  earth  wake  up 
from  her  long  winter's  nap. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  8i 

Considering  its  latitude,  spring  comes  wonderfully 
early  in  Scandinavia.  Even  in  February  you  can  see 
the  yellowing  of  the  willow  trees,  and  the  catkins  begin 
to  show  their  downy  faces  on  many  a  bush.  Very  early 
in  March  you  will  see  little  girls  from  the  country  on 
the  streets  of  Stockhohn  and  Upsala,  selling  the  earhest 
wild  flowers,  that  look  like  our  hepaticas.  Soon  the  ice 
in  the  great  lakes  in  the  southern  part  of  Sweden  breaks 
up,  and  from  the  Malar  huge  cakes,  on  which  you  might 
build  a  little  house  and  float  out  to  sea,  come  rushing 
down  through  the  city  to  the  Baltic. 

Perhaps  you  remember  that  when  in  midwinter  I 
went  to  the  far  North  to  see  a  sunless  day  my  railway 
journey  took  me  through  the  university  city  of  Upsala. 
In  this  balmy  June  weather  I  want  you  to  go  with  me 
by  boat,  for  it  is  by  far  the  most  interesting  and  pic- 
turesque way.  Starting  from  the  Riddarholmen  quay 
of  Stockholm,  we  are  soon  out  upon  the  great  lake 
which  adds  so  much  beauty  to  Stockholm's  environ- 
ments. On  all  sides  of  us  are  Sweden's  vast  forests  of 
pine  and  birch,  clothing  the  gentle  hills  to  their  very 
top  and  coming  down  to  the  shore  until  their  feet  are 
almost  washed  by  Malar's  ripples.  On.  through  a  long, 
narrow  arm  of  the  lake  we  steam,  being  admitted  to 
new  beauties  by  floating  bridges  that  open  their  doors 
for  us  as  we  approach.  Each  turn  in  the  channel 
reveals  something  a  Httle  more  beautiful  than  the 
last  scene. 

Nor  is  it  rural  loveliness  alone  that  enchants  one  with 
this  journey,  for  we  are  constantly  getting  glimpses  of 


82  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

charming  villas,  old  chateaux,  castles,  and  occasional 
ruins,  each  one  of  which  is  aHve  with  historic  interest. 

The  great  palace  of  Drottningholm,  with  its  beautiful 
gardens,  a  favorite  residence  of  the  kings  of  Sweden,  is 
one  of  the  first  palaces  that  we  see.  Soon  after  the 
chateau  of  Lennartsnas  appears,  and  we  remind  our- 
selves that  it  was  once  owned  by  Lennart  Torstenson, 
a  hero  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  with  whom  I  fear 
that  neither  you  nor  I  are  acquainted.  And  now  we 
come  to  the  old  city  of  Sigtuna,  whose  inhabitants,  like 
many  of  the  people  of  Palestine,  are  indebted  to  their 
ancestors  for  the  modest  degree  of  prosperity  which 
they  enjoy  to-day. 

A  famous  American  preacher  once  pubHshed  an  oft- 
quoted  sermon  on  the  "dignity  of  human  nature  as 
disclosed  by  its  ruins,"  if  I  remember  the  title  correctly. 
The  former  dignity  of  Sigtima  is  certainly  disclosed  by 
its  ruins,  for  above  the  few  and  himible  dwellings  of 
the  present  day  rise  the  niins  of  three  mighty  churches, 
St.  Olaf,  St.  Per,  and  St.  Lars. 

Sigtuna  was  destroyed  by  the  Esthonians  from  Russia, 
when  they  raided  Sweden  away  back  in  the  year  1181. 
It  is  said  that  they  carried  off  two  great  silver  doors 
from  one  of  these  churches,  and  if  you  go  to  Novgorod, 
in  Russia,  perhaps  you  will  see  them  doing  duty  in 
some  Greek  Orthodox  church  of  the  present  day. 

But  the  most  interesting  palace  that  we  see  on  our 
way  to  Upsala  is  Skokloster.  You  will  see  that  there  is 
more  than  a  suspicion  of  a  cloister  in  this  name,  for  the 
Cistercian  nuns  once  Hved  in  these  woods  in  a  forest 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  83 

cloister.  But  the  palace  that  we  see  was  erected  by 
the  great  Field  Marshal  Carl  Gustaf  Wrangel,  and  by 
studying  its  treasures  you  can  learn  more  in  half  a  day 
about  the  Thirty  Years'  War  than  by  reading  a  small 
library  of  books.  It  is  still  in  the  possession  of  the 
descendants  of  the  Field  Marshal,  and  I  venture  to  say 
there  is  no  more  interesting  collection  in  the  world  of 
the  relics  of  the  titanic  struggle  that  freed  Europe  from 
her  long  thralldom. 

I  did  not  coimt  them,  but  I  am  told  that  there  are 
over  twelve  hundred  guns  and  eight  hundred  swords 
and  daggers,  most  of  them  the  relics  of  this  war.  An 
immense  Hbrary,  a  splendid  collection  of  old  manu- 
scripts, rare  pictures,  and  porcelain  make  the  palace  far 
more  interesting  than  most  musemns.  There  is  one 
treasure  which  I  have  since  read  about  and  which  I 
am  very  sorry  I  did  not  see.  It  is  a  Httle  gold  ring  con- 
taining a  ruby  set  in  diamonds.  "This  is  the  ring  the 
great  Gustavus  Adolphus  gave  to  his  first  and  only  true 
love,  the  beautiful  and  gifted  Ebba  Brahe,  on  their 
betrothal.  The  diamond  ring  that  Ebba  gave  to  Gus- 
tavus in  return  is  preserved  in  the  sacristy  of  the  cathe- 
dral at  Upsala." 

Five  of  the  love  letters  of  Gustavus  are  still  preserved, 
and  no  lover  ever  wrote  more  ardently  or  charmingly. 
But  the  course  of  true  love  is  not  any  more  likely  to 
run  smoothly  with  princes  than  with  other  people.  In- 
deed I  am  not  sure  but  the  average  man  has  a  decided 
advantage  over  a  prince  in  that  respect.  For  though 
Gustavus  and  Ebba  were  betrothed,  they  were  never 


84  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

allowed  to  marry.  The  old  queen  would  not  allow  Gus- 
tavus  to  have  a  Swedish  subject  for  his  wife,  but  made 
him  marry  a  German  princess  with  few  brains  and 
small  personal  attractions  compared  with  Ebba  Brahe, 
while  Ebba  married  a  Swedish  Field  Marshal.  This 
accounts  for  the  fact  that  her  engagement  ring  is  treas- 
ured at  Skokloster  to-day,  for  the  son-in-law  of  Field 
Marshal  Wrangel  belonged  to  the  Brahe  family,  in 
whose  possession  it  has  remained  ever  since. 

Does  not  this  little  romance  seem  to  bring  the  great 
warrior  a  little  nearer  to  us?  As  we  think  of  that  little 
ruby  ring,  he  is  no  longer  a  demigod,  but  a  disappointed 
lover,  a  lovelorn  wooer,  "sighing  like  a  furnace"; 
thinking,  no  doubt,  imutterable  things  about  the  stern 
old  queen  who  would  not  let  him  have  his  own  way. 

It  gives  us  a  glimpse,  too,  of  the  influence  of  woman 
in  those  old  days.  Even  the  most  advanced  suffragette 
of  the  present  time  cannot  make  a  British  Prime  Min- 
ister bend  to  her  will,  while  one  woman  in  the  olden  days 
was  enough  to  make  the  greatest  warrior  of  Christen- 
dom quail  and  give  up  the  one  on  whom  he  had  set  his 
heart's  affection. 

But  if  Skokloster  detains  us  too  long,  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  bring  you  to  Upsala  to-day.  A  few  hours  after 
leaving  Skokloster,  we  enter  the  little  Fyris  River, 
which  winds  through  a  wide  plain  and  takes  us  close  to 
the  heart  of  Sweden's  most  famous  university  town. 

One  can  tell  that  he  is  in  a  college  town  before  the 
boat  ties  up  at  the  wharf,  for  students  in  white  caps 
have  come  down  to  the  wharf  to  meet  other  students 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  85 

in  white  caps,  who  are  coining  back  to  their  college 
duties.  There  are  two  thousand  of  them  here,  and 
nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  professors  and  instructors. 
A  beautiful  name  has  been  given  to  Upsala  by  some- 
one who  calls  it  the  "  City  of  Eternal  Youth."  A  happy 
name  indeed  for  any  college  town,  where  every  six  or 
eight  years  the  student  body  wholly  changes,  and  with 
every  year  new  blood  and  yoimg  life  is  injected  into  the 
veins  of  the  old  institution. 

Some  educationahsts  think  that  our  college  course  in 
America  is  too  long,  and  that  young  men  are  conse- 
quently obliged  to  begin  their  life  work  too  late.  What 
would  they  say  to  Upsala,  I  wonder,  where  the  course 
is  from  six  to  ten  years,  though  the  average  age  of  enter- 
ing is  nineteen.  Philosophy,  law,  and  theology  exact 
six  years  of  study  on  the  average,  before  the  examina- 
tions can  be  successfully  passed,  while  medicine  requires 
eight  or  ten.  Surely  the  doctors  of  Sweden  should  be 
well  equipped  for  their  Kfe  work. 

Another  unique  feature  of  Upsala  University  is  the 
institution  of  the  ''Nations."  These  Nations  are 
something  Hke  the  Greek-letter  societies  of  American 
colleges,  with  the  important  distinction  that  every 
student  at  Upsala  must  join  one  of  the  Thirteen  Nations, 
and  there  is  none  of  the  snobbishness  which  is  beginning 
to  characterize  some  of  our  Greek-letter  societies. 

These  Thirteen  Nations  all  have  buildings  or  rooms 
of  their  own,  and  each  one  is  named  after  one  of  the 
provinces  of  Sweden,  while  a  distinctive  flag  waving 
over  the  building  shows  what  Nation  inhabits  it.    The 


86  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

chief  university  building  is  worthy  of  any  institution  on 
either  side  of  the  Atlantic,  but  there  is  no  great  group 
of  buildings  or  splendid  quadrangle,  and  the  first  effect 
of  Upsala  as  a  university  town  is  rather  meager  and 
disappointing.  A  homely  brick  building  with  a  round 
tower  at  either  end  was  formerly  a  royal  palace,  but  is 
now  used  by  the  university. 

Gustavus  Adolphus,  who  had  a  hand  in  almost  every- 
thing of  importance  in  ancient  Sweden,  gave  the  uni- 
versity a  splendid  endowment,  and  sent  back  to  it  from 
his  battlefields  many  of  the  spoils  of  war,  among  others 
a  great  library  from  Wurzburg,  Germany.  It  is  said 
that  at  the  same  time  he  forwarded  the  Twelve  Apostles 
in  silver  and  the  golden  Virgin  Mary  from  the  Wurz- 
burg cathedral  to  the  Swedish  mint  to  be  coined  into 
krofier.  He  doubtless  felt,  like  his  great  English  proto- 
type, Cromwell,  that  the  apostles  should  "go  about 
doing  good." 

The  chief  treasure  of  Upsala  is  an  old,  time-worn 
parchment  manuscript,  in  many  respects  the  most  inter- 
esting book  in  the  world,  for  it  is  the  only  original 
Gothic  manuscript  extant  and  the  only  early  source 
of  information  concerning  the  Gothic  language,  the 
oldest  of  all  Teutonic  tongues. 

The  manuscript  contains  a  translation  of  the  four 
Gospels  in  Gothic  by  Bishop  Ulphilas.  The  good  bishop 
died  in  the  year  388,  and  this  copy  was  made  imdoubt- 
edly  within  a  century  of  his  death.  Not  only  did 
Ulphilas  make  this  translation,  but  he  invented  the 
Gothic  alphabet,  some  of  whose  letters  show  his  in- 


(.  opyrij^ht  by  Underwood  &•  Underwood,  N.  Y. 

The  Castle  at  Upsala. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  87 

debtedness  to  the  Greek.  The  letters  are  stamped  in 
silver  upon  purple  parchment,  while  some  of  the  capi- 
tals and  more  important  words  are  in  gold  or  otherwise 
iUimiinated. 

It  has  been  said:  "The  old  monk  who  laboriously 
stamped  this  parchment  with  his  single  types,  a  letter 
at  a  time,  little  knew  how  near  he  came  to  inventing 
printing,  yet  had  he  only  combined  three  or  four  types 
together  and  stamped  a  word  at  once,  the  great  invention 
would  have  been  made  there  and  then." 

I  am  not  so  sure  of  this,  for  our  modern  printing-press 
uses  letters  set  one  at  a  time,  as  the  old  monk  used  his 
hot  metal  t)^es.  But  evidently  the  world  was  not  yet 
ripe  for  Gutenburg  and  his  printing-press,  and  it  had 
to  wait  another  thousand  years  for  the  invention  that 
opened  the  aristocratic  halls  of  learning  to  the  democ- 
racy of  the  world.  A  saying  of  Max  Miiller's  is  worth 
quoting  for  you  here:  "To  come  to  Upsala,"  he  says, 
"and  not  see  the  Codex  Argenteus  would  be  like  going 
to  the  Holy  Land  without  seeing  the  Holy  Grave.'' 

I  am  glad  that  the  guardians  of  the  Codex  are  fully 
alive  to  its  unique  value.  Every  night,  in  its  silver  case, 
it  is  locked  up  in  a  fire  and  burglar-proof  safe,  for  the 
authorities  remember  that  many  years  ago  a  watchman 
stole  ten  leaves  of  the  Codex.  For  twenty  years  they 
were  lost,  and  only  on  his  death-bed  the  thief  confessed 
his  folly  and  drew  them  out  from  the  pillow  beneath 
his  head.  Such  a  theft  seems  to  me  a  good  deal  like 
stealing  a  red-hot  stove,  or,  perhaps  the  Mona  Lisa, 
for  how  a  thief  could  expect  to  dispose  of  any  of  these . 


88  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

treasures  or  profit  by  them  without  discovery  is  a 
mystery. 

Another  building  here,  to  which  I  must  not  fail  to 
introduce  you,  is  the  splendid  cathedral,  the  noblest 
church  in  Sweden  and  the  historic  center  of  the  kingdom. 
It  has  recently  been  so  thoroughly  restored  that  all  the 
old  cathedral  has  been  renovated  out  of  it,  except  its 
memories  and  its  tombs.  Yet  from  the  modern  stand- 
point it  is  a  magnificent  building,  nearly  four  hundred 
feet  long,  and  with  three  beautiful  Gothic  spires  that 
soar  as  many  feet  into  the  air. 

The  tombs  have  interested  me  the  most,  however. 
Here  lies  Gustavus  Vasa,  in  a  granite  sarcophagus 
between  his  two  wives,  who  in  effigy  lie  on  either  side 
of  him,  while  no  thoughts  of  jealousy  or  rivalry  stir 
their  granite  hearts.  Here,  too,  is  the  charming  philos- 
opher and  naturaHst,  Linnaeus,  whose  statue  in  Stock- 
holm I  described,  and  Swedenborg,  the  great  mystic, 
who  could  look  into  heaven  and  hell  and  describe  what 
he  saw  there,  and  whose  works,  which  have  so  strong  a 
hold  on  a  multitude  of  Americans  to-day,  are  published 
and  re-published  in  a  multitude  of  languages. 

I  have  been  introducing  you  only  to  "new"  Upsala, 
and  to  people  and  books  that  are  not  more  than  a  thou- 
sand or  fifteen  hundred  years  old;  but  there  is  an  old 
Upsala  about  three  miles  from  the  cathedral,  which  I 
have  greatly  enjoyed  visiting.  It  is  within  easy  walking 
distance  on  this  bright  June  day,  and  I  set  out  to  find 
my  own  way  to  Gamla  Upsala,  which  was  not  a  difficult 
task  in  spite  of  my  sKght  knowledge  of  the  Swedish 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  89 

language,  since  the  average  Swede  will  take  unlimited 
pains  to  tell  a  traveler  what  he  wishes  to  know. 

One  of  these  polite  gentlemen  upon  the  street  hap- 
pened to  hear  me  asking  the  way  to  Gamla  Upsala. 
He  was  walking  with  his  wife,  and  he  told  me  to  follow 
them  and  they  would  show  me  the  way.  I  naturally 
supposed  that  they  were  going  in  that  direction  them- 
selves, and  trudged  on  behind  them,  since  our  limited 
knowledge  of  each  other's  tongues  did  not  allow  much 
personal  intercourse.  They  turned  from  one  road  into 
another,  walking  a  good  mile  and  a  half,  I  should  judge, 
until  we  came  in  sight  of  three  singular  mounds  in  the 
distance,  a  mile  or  more  away.  *' These,"  they  said, 
pointing  to  them,  "mark  the  site  of  Gamla  Upsala." 
Then  they  bade  me  a  poHte  good  afternoon  and  turned 
around  to  pursue  their  homeward  journey.  Apparently 
they  had  come  all  this  way  to  show  a  solitary  American 
the  site  of  the  ancient  city  and  to  make  sure  that  he 
would  not  get  lost  on  the  straight  and  narrow  road  that 
leads  to  it. 

As  I  approached  the  King's  Mounds,  or  Kungs  Edgar j 
I  found  that  they  were  not  unHke  the  Bin  Tepe,  or 
the  Graves  of  the  Thousand  Kings  on  the  Lydian  plain, 
near  old  Sardis  in  Asia  Minor.  To  be  sure  the  tumuli 
of  Lydia  are  for  the  most  part  far  larger  than  the  mounds 
of  Gamla  Upsala.  Still  these  are  very  considerable 
timauli,  about  sixty  feet  high  and  two  hundred  and 
twenty-five  feet  in  diameter. 

They  are  called  the  Mounds  of  Odin,  Thor,  and  Frey, 
but  you  must  not  suppose,  Judicia,  that  the  old  viking 


90  THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

gods  are  buried  here.  By  the  way,  where  do  you  sup- 
pose such  mythical  personages  are  buried?  But  some- 
one, not  knowing  who  the  ancient  occupants  of  these 
graves  might  be,  gave  them  these  names,  which  certainly 
add  to  the  interest  of  Gamla  Upsala.  I  almost  felt,  as 
I  scrambled  to  the  top  of  Odin's  Hill,  which  is  the 
largest  of  the  three,  that  I  was  standing  on  the  grave 
of  one  of  the  ancient  gods. 

Of  course  inquisitive  moderns  have  not  allowed  the 
ancient  bones  in  these  tombs  to  rest  in  peace,  but  all 
that  they  found  when  they  opened  them  were  the  half- 
burnt  remains  of  some  old  kings  whpse  names  and  dates 
nobody  is  wise  enough  to  know,  together  with  some 
pieces  of  gold  and  copper  ornaments,  some  glass  dishes, 
and  bones  of  the  kings'  horses  and  dogs,  all  of  which 
were  burnt  apparently  in  the  same  great  holocaust 
which  consumed  his  mortal  remains.  Whether  his 
wives  had  to  share  the  fate  of  his  horses  and  dogs, 
deponent  saith  not. 

There  is  another  interesting  moimd  not  far  from 
Odin's  timiulus.  It  is  twenty  feet  lower  than  his  grave 
and  has  a  large  level  space  on  the  top.  This  is  the  hill 
where  the  ancient,  open-air  parliament  was  held  and 
where,  as  late  as  the  days  of  Gustavus  Vasa,  the  kings 
were  accustomed  to  address  the  people. 

Gamla  Upsala  is  now  a  very  small  hamlet  with  a  little 
stone  church,  whose  high  and  narrow  windows  and 
massive  tower  make  it  look  more  like  a  fort  than  a 
sanctuary.  Upon  this  spot,  we  are  told,  once  stood  a 
splendid  temple  to  the  stalwart  old  gods  who  have 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  91 

given  their  names  to  the  tumuli  —  Odin,  Thor,  and  Frey. 
It  is  only  a  little  more  than  a  hundred  years  since  this 
temple  was  destroyed  and  since  priests  still  offered 
sacrifices,  perhaps  of  human  victims. 

Let  me  close  my  story  of  Gamla  Upsala  with  a  sen- 
tence from  the  story  of  Adam  of  Bremen,  who  wrote 
his  Chronicle  in  the  very  last  days  of  heathendom, 
about  the  year  1070.  ''In  this  sacred  house,"  he  says, 
"which  everywhere  is  adorned  with  gold,  the  people 
worship  the  images  of  three  gods,  and  this  so  that  Thor, 
who  is  the  mightiest  of  them,  occupies  the  seat  of  honor 
in  the  middle,  while  Odin  and  Frey  have  their  places 
on  each  side  of  him.  When  pest  or  famine  is  at  hand, 
they  offer  to  Thor's  image;  when  it  is  war,  to  Odin's; 
at  wedding  celebrations,  to  Frey."^  Adam  also  relates 
that  near  the  temple  stood  a  grove  in  which  the  bodies 
of  victims,  hvrnian  beings  as  well  as  beasts,  were  hung 
up,  "and  this  grove  is  sacred  in  the  eyes  of  the  heathen." 
He  says  that  "every  tree  in  it  is  held  to  be  divine  on 
account  of  the  death  or  blood  of  those  offered  there." 
What  a  tremendous  gap  in  the  history  of  the  world  is 
indicated  by  the  Httle  distance  between  Odin's  Moimd 
and  that  homely  Christian  church !  What  a  tremendous 
advance  from  the  big  Gamla  Upsala  of  the  eleventh 
century  to  the  little  Gamla  Upsala  of  the  twentieth! 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 

*  Quoted  by  Honorable  W.  W.  Thomas  in  Sweden  and  the  Swedes. 


NINTH  LETTER 

Which  tells  of  Swedish  lakeland;  the  commodious  craft  on  which 
one  sails  through  it;  with  some  side  remarks  on  the  coinage  of 
the  country  and  the  honesty  of  the  people.  Returns  to  the  four 
great  lakes,  and  tells  of  hill-climbing  by  steamer  and  going  down 
hill  by  the  same  route  across  Vettem  and  Venem  until  the  falls 
of  Trollhatten  and  Gotenburg  are  reached. 

Lake  Venern,  June  20. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

While  I  am  sailing  across  this  magnificent  lake  I  must 
indite  another  epistle  to  you,  telling  you  of  the  fascina- 
tions of  Swedish  lakeland.  There  will  be  plenty  of 
time,  too,  to  write  you  all  about  it,  for  Lake  Venem  is 
eighty  miles  long,  the  largest  lake,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, in  all  Europe,  and  our  steamer  traverses  almost 
its  whole  length.  Let  me  advise  you,  if  you  ever  have 
another  long  hoHday,  to  spend  it  among  Sweden's  lakes. 
You  have  seen  the  Swiss  lakes  more  than  once,  and  the 
ItaHan  lakes  and  the  Cimiberland  Lake  region  of  Eng- 
land, but  in  many  respects  Sweden's  lakes  surpass  them 
all  in  size,  in  picturesqueness,  and  in  the  convenient 
and  deHghtful  way  one  may  get  from  one  to  the 
other.  It  is  true  that  there  is  no  Mount  Pilatus  in 
Sweden,  or  Monte  Rosa,  but  there  are  other  charms 
which  fully  make  up  for  the  lack  of  the  mountain 
scenery  one  finds  in  France  and  Italy.  And  as  for 
the  little  "waters"  which   one   finds    in   Cumberland, 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  93 

they  pale  into  insignificance  beside  these  great  reser- 
voirs of  the  purest,  most  translucent  water  on  the 
earth's  surface. 

But  the  great  advantage  that  they  have  over  every 
other  lake  region  in  the  world  is  that  you  can  see  all  the 
great  lakes  in  a  three-days'  journey  without  leaving  the 
very  comfortable  steamer  on  which  you  embark  at 
Stockholm. 

At  Lucerne  you  can  have  a  fine  excursion  on  the 
Vierwaldstdttersee,  but,  unless  you  come  back  by 
land,  you  must  return  by  the  same  route  to  Lucerne. 
Your  steamer  cannot  climb  the  hills  and  get  over  into 
Lake  Geneva,  or  strike  across  country  and  find  its  way 
into  Lake  Thun  and  Lake  Brienz;  but  that  is  just  what 
you  can  do  in  Sweden.  You  can  journey  clear  across 
the  lower  end  of  Scandinavia,  from  the  Baltic  to  the 
Kattegat,  passing  through  a  continuous  succession  of 
the  most  delightful  scenes,  through  rivers  and  canals, 
across  lake  after  lake,  past  ancient  castles  that  will 
tell  you  the  whole  story  of  Sweden,  until  at  last  you 
come  out  on  the  western  sea  and  land  at  Sweden's 
second  greatest  city,  Gotenburg.  In  this  journey  you 
even  climb  some  considerable  hills  without  leaving  your 
stateroom,  unless  you  choose,  or  your  comfortable  seat 
on  the  steamer's  deck,  and  at  some  places  in  your  jour- 
ney you  are  more  than  three  hundred  feet  above  your 
starting  point  on  the  Baltic,  or  your  arrival  point  on  the 
Kattegat. 

But  let  us  begin  at  the  beginning,  for  this  journey  is 
worth  describing  in  detail.    To  begin  with,  the  craft  on 


94  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

which  we  set  sail  is  no  Uttle  motor  boat  or  steam  launch, 
as  you  might  imagine  when  I  tell  you  of  its  abihty  to 
climb  hills,  but  a  very  substantial  and  commodious  little 
steamer,  with  quite  elegant  staterooms,  upholstered 
abundantly  in  red  satin,  and  with  two  wide  berths  and 
ample  toilet  accommodations. 

What  a  travesty  it  is,  Judida,  to  speak  of  many  of  the 
steamer  cabins  even  on  Atlantic  steamers  as  "state- 
rooms." Rooms  of  state!  Call  them  vaults,  closets,  or 
any  other  appropriate  name.  But,  really,  it  is  not  very 
much  of  an  exaggeration  to  call  the  cabins  on  the  great 
Gota  Canal  line  of  Sweden  staterooms.  They  are 
quite  good  enough  for  statesmen  of  average  quality,  and 
even  royalty  need  not  object  to  them  for  a  three  days' 
occupancy. 

The  berths  are  not  one  above  the  other,  to  which  the 
unfortunate  man  in  the  upper  berth  must  climb  by  a 
precarious  ladder,  but  are  on  either  side  of  the  room,  and 
make  very  comfortable  lounges  by  day.  The  table,  too, 
on  these  steamers,  is  everything  that  could  be  desired; 
but  that  is  to  be  taken  for  granted  in  Sweden.  The 
Smorgasbord  is  abimdant  and  varied,  and  the  hot 
dishes  are  always  admirably  cooked.  When  your  meal  is 
finished  you  simply  write  down  on  a  long  account  book 
which  hangs  on  the  wall  what  you  have  had,  whether 
merely  cojffee  (which  includes  all  the  cakes  and  sweet 
bread  that  you  wish),  or  Smorgasbord,  or  perhaps  a  full 
dinner. 

At  the  end  of  the  voyage  the  amount  is  reckoned  up, 
and  the  cashier  takes  your  word  for  what  you  have 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  95 

eaten.  You  are  very  likely  to  be  surprised  at  the  small- 
ness  of  your  bill,  whether  she  is  or  not. 

This  trustfulness  in  your  probity  tempts  me  to  dilate 
upon  the  refreshing  honesty  of  these  Scandinavian 
nations.  Especially  if  you  come  direct  from  Italy,  the 
contrast  is  most  refreshing.  You  never  have  to  scan  your 
bills  and  add  up  the  items  to  see  that  the  cashier  has 
not  slipped  in  a  few  extra  francs  for  his  or  her  per- 
quisite. You  need  not  even  count  your  change,  imless 
you  want  to  make  sure  that  the  change-maker  has  not 
cheated  himself.  You  need  never  bite  your  money  or 
ring  it  on  the  pavement  to  be  certain  that  it  is  not  bad; 
or  examine  the  date  on  the  coins  to  find  out  whether  the 
smiling  clerk  who  gives  you  the  change  is  not  working 
off  some  obsolete  coins  on  you  which  you  cannot  hon- 
estly dispose  of  without  a  loss  of  fifty  per  cent. 

In  Scandinavia  a  kroner  is  a  kroner  and  an  ore  is  an 
ore,  and  I  should  be  as  much  surprised  to  find  a  bad 
coin  in  any  of  these  kingdoms  as  to  find  one  of  the  un- 
mentionable little  creatures,  so  common  in  some  other 
coimtries,  in  a  Scandinavian  bed. 

The  coinage  of  Denmark,  Sweden,  and  Norway  is 
interchangeable.  At  any  bank  in  any  of  the  three  king- 
doms, or  at  any  store  where  you  may  trade,  you  will 
receive  money  that  is  good  in  every  other  place,  from 
Korsor  to  Hammerfest. 

Each  of  these  three  kingdoms  had  its  own  money, 
with  the  head  of  its  king  stamped  on  its  own  coins,  and 
its  bank  notes  issued  by  its  own  banks.  But  Denmark's 
money  is  exactly  the   same  value  as  Sweden's,  and 


96  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Sweden's  of  precisely  the  same  worth  as  Norway's,  and 
the  money  of  each  passes  current  at  its  face  value  in  all. 

If,  my  dear  Judicia,  you  will  bring  this  idea  of  an 
assimilated  currency  to  the  attention  of  all  the  great 
nations,  and  persuade  them  to  accept  it,  you  will  confer 
an  enormous  boon  upon  every  traveler. 

During  this  monetary  discussion  we  have  not  made 
much  headway  along  the  Gota  Canal.  Now  I  will 
make  up  for  lost  time.  A  few  minutes  after  our  steamer 
left  the  quay  at  Stockholm  we  found  ourselves  among 
the  islands  of  beautiful  Lake  Malar,  famous  in  Sweden's 
story,  but  before  long  we  came  to  the  deep  cut  by 
which  the  waters  of  the  lake  join  a  bay  of  the  Baltic. 
Lake  Malar  covers  nearly  five  hundred  square  miles,  and 
though  less  than  a  fifth  part  as  large  as  Lake  Venern, 
it  is  yet  one  of  the  greatest  lakes  in  Europe.  Let  me  at 
least  make  you  acquainted  with  the  names  of  Sweden's 
four  inland  seas,  which  ought  to  be  as  familiar  to  a 
traveler  like  yourself,  as  Lake  Como  or  Maggiore. 
They  are  the  Venern,  the  Vettern,  the  Hjelmar,  and 
Malar. 

Mr.  Von  Heidenstam,  in  Swedish  Life  in  Town  and 
Country,  says:  "It  is  a  common  saying  that  you  cannot 
stand  on  any  given  spot  in  these  districts  without  having 
a  lake  in  view  somewhere,  for  by  the  side  of  the  giant 
lakes  smaller  ones  abound,  spread  over  the  face  of  the 
whole  country.  Of  the  hundred  and  ten  millions  of 
acres  forming  the  surface  of  the  country,  over  eight  and 
a  half  millions  are  covered  by  lakes.  Large  and  small, 
they  dot  the  green  earth  with  blue  wherever  the  eye 


Copyright  by  Underwood  6*  Underwood,  N.  Y 

The  Locks,  Borenshult,  Gota  Canal. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  97 

turns.  The  peasants  call  them  the  ^eyes  of  the  earth/ 
and  limpid  and  blue  they  are,  like  the  eyes  of  the 
northern  maidens." 

If  you  will  consult  the  map  you  will  easily  understand 
our  tortuous  but  delightful  course  across  southern 
Sweden  from  Stockholm  to  Gotenburg. 

The  deep  cut  which  I  have  told  you  about  that  leads 
from  Lake  Malar  to  the  Baltic  Sea  was  soon  passed 
(for  in  order  to  reach  the  great  canal  we  must  first  get 
into  the  Baltic),  and  we  found  ourselves  sailing  among 
the  beautiful  islands  and  past  the  charming  villas  which 
dot  the  coast  in  this  region.  A  few  hours  more  and  we 
entered  another  long,  narrow  gulf  or  fjord,  until  at  Norr- 
koping  we  struck  the  canal  again.  Before  long  we  came 
to  the  fifteen  steps  by  which  our  steamer  climbs  from 
little  Lake  Roxen  to  the  level  of  the  Vettern. 

This  is  indeed  the  most  delightful  hill-climbing  that 
I  have  ever  enjoyed.  From  one  lock  to  another  the 
steamer  rises,  while  the  passengers  can  either  stay  on 
deck  or  they  can  get  off  and  stroll  up  on  foot. 

We  had  plenty  of  time  to  visit  Vreta  Klosterkyrka, 
which  is  celebrated  as  the  place  where  Ebba  Leijonhufvud 
spent  her  widowhood  and  died  in  1549.  I  do  not  know 
that  Ebba  was  particularly  celebrated  for  her  exploits  or 
for  beauty  of  face  or  form,  but  she  was  the  mother-in-law 
of  Gustavus  Vasa,  and  even  that  oft-derided  relationship 
adds  an  interest  to  the  place. 

The  beautiful  church,  which  is  built  upon  the  ruins 
of  the  old  cloister,  contains  the  ashes  of  several  kings, 
but  these  old  forgotten  worthies  are  not  of  so  much  in- 


98  THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

terest  as  the  colQ&ns  that  we  saw  in  another  chapel  of 
the  church.  There  are  five  of  them,  piled  one  above  the 
other,  and  each  one  contains  a  Douglas.  The  most 
famous  Douglas  of  them  all,  a  younger  son  of  the  head 
of  the  great  Scottish  clan,  fought  under  Gustavus  Adol- 
phus  in  the  Thirty  Years'  War.  For  his  bravery  he  was 
made  a  Swedish  count,  and  many  a  Swedish  noble  with 
Douglas  blood  in  his  veins  lives  in  Sweden  to-day. 

By  the  time  we  had  sauntered  slowly  up  the  hill  and 
had  visited  the  site  of  Gustavus  Vasa's  mother-in-law's 
cloister,  and  ruminated  sufficiently  on  the  past,  we 
were  ready  to  take  the  steamer  again  for  another  lovely 
sail  down  an  arm  of  Lake  Vettern  to  Vadstena,  and 
here  we  had  time  enough  to  go  ashore  and  see  another 
castle  of  Gustavus  Vasa's,  who  seems  to  have  sprinkled 
his  residences  all  over  this  part  of  Sweden.  Here,  we 
are  told,  "he  celebrated  his  marriage  with  his  third 
wife,  Catarina,  a  blushing  bride  of  sixteen,  though  the 
bridegroom  was  almost  four  times  as  old,  and  this,  too, 
notwithstanding  that  the  girl  was  already  betrothed  to  a 
noble  youth,  and  ran  away  and  hid  herself  in  her  father's 
garden  when  the  old  king  came  to  court  her."  ^ 

In  Vadstena  are  two  churches,  each  some  five  hundred 
years  old,  one  of  which  is  famous  as  the  last  resting  place 
of  St.  Bridget,  to  whom  I  have  already  introduced  you, 
for  here  she  had  foimded  the  celebrated  nunnery,  whose 
inmates  had  to  take  such  strict,  ascetic  vows. 

Across  Lake  Vettern  we  sailed  through  another  canal, 
that  led  us  between  charming  pastures,  musical  with 
*  Honorable  W.  W.  Thomas:  Sweden  and  the  Swedes. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  99 

the  tinkle  of  cowbells;  past  fine  farms,  the  red  farmhouse 
making  a  spot  of  color  on  the  rich  green  turf;  past  gently 
wooded  hills,  until  we  came  to  magnificent  Lake  Venern. 
But  we  had  to  get  downhill  before  we  reached  the  Katte- 
gat, for  we  were  one  hundred  and  forty-four  feet  above 
the  sea,  and  eleven  great  locks,  each  of  them  one  hundred 
and  twelve  feet  long,  is  the  stairway  by  which  we 
descended. 

Since  it  took  some  time  for  our  steamer  to  go  down  the 
hill,  we  walked  instead,  for  we  get  many  a  glimpse  from 
the  shore  of  some  of  the  most  beautiful  rapids  I  have 
ever  seen.  These  are  the  falls  of  Trollhatten.  Is  not 
that  a  name  that  Hngers  upon  your  lips  and  suggests  all 
sorts  of  trolls  and  sprites  and  water  nymphs?  A  tre- 
ihendous  volume  of  water  comes  rushing  down  over  the 
falls,  for  Europe's  largest  lake,  as  I  have  before  told  you, 
here  empties  itself,  or  rather  throws  itself  into  the  sea. 
Except  for  its  one  majestic  fall,  Niagara  cannot  show  us 
anything  more  exciting  in  the  way  of  cataracts  than 
Trollhatten.  There  are  five  of  them,  the  smallest 
twenty-five  feet  high,  and  the  biggest  forty-two  feet  of 
steep  incline,  while  the  river  is  lined  on  either  side  by 
jagged  rocks  and  high  cliffs,  past  which  it  comes  surging 
and  swirling  with  deafening  roar,  hurling  its  spray  high 
in  the  air. 

I  wish  the  poet-laureate  Southey  had  seen  the  falls  at 

Trollhatten  and  had  expended  some  of  his  adjectives 

upon  them  instead  of  wasting  them  all  upon  that  little 

streamlet  at  the  end  of  Derwent  Water  when  he  wrote 

How  the  Waters  come  down  at  Lodore." 


loo        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

At  the  foot  of  the  falls  we  took  the  steamer  again  for  a 
few  hours'  sail  down  the  Gota  River,  until  we  came  to 
Sweden's  greatest  commercial  city,  Gotenburg,  where 
steamers  are  waiting  to  carry  Sweden's  products  and 
Sweden's  emigrants  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

I  fear  I  may  have  given  you  the  impression,  as  I  have 
described  the  getting  up  and  downhill  across  Sweden's 
broad  southern  end,  of  merely  a  hohday  waterway,  but 
the  Gota  Canal  is  the  great  artery  of  Sweden.  Through 
it,  up  and  down  these  gigantic  steps,  pass  twelve  thou- 
sand vessels  every  year,  some  of  them  steamers  capable 
of  making  an  Atlantic  voyage,  some  of  them  full-rigged 
schooners  or  brigs. 

The  charm  of  the  trip,  too,  is  not  by  any  means  con- 
fined to  the  scenery  or  the  ancient  castles,  for  our  fellow 
passengers,  by  their  gentle  poHteness,  do  much  to  make 
the  journey  memorable.  If  you  had  been  with  us,  they 
would  have  taken  pains  to  find  out  any  titles  which  the 
American  colleges  may  have  incautiously  conferred 
upon  your  husband,  and  would  always  address  you  as 
the  "Lady  Doctor."  They  would  not  think  of  using  the 
word  ni  (you)  in  addressing  you.  We  are  told  about 
one  of  the  young  lady  clerks  in  a  great  store  in  Stock- 
holm who  sent  word  to  a  gentleman  that  his  son  had  in- 
sulted her.  On  asking  the  girl  what  the  insult  was,  she 
replied:  "He  addressed  me  as  wi."  I  am  speaking  now 
of  the  way  in  which  chance  acquaintances  or  strangers 
address  one  another. 

But  now  and  then,  as  we  hear  our  fellow  passengers 
talking  together,   we  notice  a  peculiarly  affectionate 


Copyright  by  Underwood  of  Underwood,  N.  Y. 

The  Gorge  of  the  Gota  at  Trolhatten. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  loi 

stress  of  accent  upon  the  little  word  du,  and  we  know 
that  the  two  men  who  are  talking  together  are  fast  friends, 
or  they  would  never  address  each  other  as  "thou.'' 
"The  event  marks  an  important  stage  in  their  friendship, 
it  is  said,  and  is  accompanied  by  a  httle  ceremony.  The 
higher  in  rank,  or  the  elder  of  the  two,  says,  'Let  us 
lay  aside  our  titles.'  Pouring  out  bumpers  (let  us  hope 
it  is  always  in  Sweden's  temperance  beverage),  they 
stand  erect,  and  clinking  glasses  drink  the  brothers' 
Skol,  Then,  grasping  each  other  warmly  by  the  hand, 
they  say:  'Thanks,  brother.'  Thereafter  they  are  ^du 
brothers';  they  always  address  each  other  as  du,  or 
'brother.'" 

This  custom  of  fosterbrodralag,  or  foster  brotherhood, 
is  as  old  as  Sweden  itself,  but  in  olden  times  the  foster 
brothers  instead  of  cHnking  glasses  cut  gashes  in  their 
arms  and  let  their  blood  mingle  together  as  it  fell  to  the 
earth,  a  too  strenuous  ceremony  for  these  milder-man- 
nered days. 

Have  I  not  told  you  enough,  Judicia,  to  prove  the 
proposition  with  which  I  set  out:  that  there  is  no  more 
charming  journey  in  the  world,  when  we  consider  the 
scenery,  the  historic  associations,  our  means  of  convey- 
ance, and  our  fellow  passengers,  than  this  trip  through 
Sweden's  magnificent  Gota  Canal? 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


TENTH  LETTER 

Describes  the  ancient  city  of  Visby;  the  Gotlanders  of  old;  their 
wonderful  wealth;  their  defeat  by  King  Valdemar,  and  the  vats 
of  gold  that  he  demanded  for  the  city's  ransom.  Returning  to 
more  modem  days,  Midsimimer's  Day,  the  great  holiday  of 
Sweden,  is  described. 

ViSBY,  June  24. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

Please  refer  to  the  map  once  more,  and  you  will  see 
in  the  blue  water,  nearly  halfway  between  the  Swedish 
coast  and  the  Baltic  province  of  Russia,  a  long,  scraggly 
island,  with  many  capes  and  indentations.  You  will  see 
that  it  is  called  Gotland,  and  on  its  western  shore  you 
will  see  that  there  is  a  city  called  Visby.  I  do  not  know 
that  I  can  give  such  a  traveler  and  geographer  as  your- 
self any  real  information  about  Gotland,  but  I  will  at 
least  venture  to  refresh  your  memory  concerning  this 
most  interesting  island,  for  a  very  considerable  part  of 
the  world's  history  for  a  good  many  scores  of  years  cen- 
tered in  this  piece  of  sea-washed  land,  which  contains 
barely  twelve  hundred  square  miles  of  surface. 

At  one  time  Visby,  which  has  now  dwindled  to  a 
somewhat  obscure  tourist  resort,  was  the  London  of 
northern  Europe.  The  East  and  the  West  paid  their 
tribute  to  it.  Russia  sent  her  timber  and  her  furs, 
and  England  and  Germany  and  Flanders  their  precious 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  103 

stuffs,  which  were  here  exchanged  for  other  precious 
stuffs  and  then  went  their  several  ways  to  all  parts  of 
Europe. 
One  of  their  old  ballads  tells  us: 

"  The  Gotlanders  weigh  their  gold  with  twenty  pound  weights, 
And  play  with  choicest  jewels, 
The  pigs  eat  out  of  silver  troughs, 
And  the  women  spin  with  golden  distaffs." 

That  the  old  ballad  had  some  foundation  in  fact  is  shown 
us  by  the  splendid  ruins  that  tell  us  of  Visby's  former 
greatness. 

Throughout  Gotland  there  are  no  less  than  ninety 
great  Gothic  churches,  most  of  them  in  ruins,  while  in 
Visby  alone  were  sixteen  of  these  churches,  some  of  them 
among  the  largest  in  Europe.  So  much  has  the  city 
dwindled  that  in  only  one  of  these  churches  is  heard  the 
voice  of  prayer  and  praise  to-day.  The  walls  of  ten 
others  can  still  be  seen,  but  they  are  merely  magnificent 
ruins. 

That  the  ancient  Gotlanders  were  proud  of  their 
splendid  isolation,  in  the  middle  of  the  Baltic,  and  were 
not  inclined  to  bend  the  supple  knee  to  any  potentate, 
is  indicated  by  a  tradition  that  has  come  down  to  us, 
of  the  ambassador  whom  these  island  people  sent  to 
the  king  of  Sweden  to  seek  an  alliance  for  mutual  offense 
and  defense.  This  ambassador  was  named  Strabagn, 
which  being  interpreted  means  "  Long  Legs." 

When  he  reached  Upsala,  where  was  then  the  royal 
palace,  he  found  the  king  and  queen  dining  in  their 
great  banquet  hall.     The  king  had  a  grudge  against 


I04        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  Gotlanders,  whom  he  considered  too  toplofty  and 
independent,  and  so  Mr.  Longfellow  was  kept  standing 
in  the  hall  while  the  royal  pair  continued  their  sumptu- 
ous meal.  At  last  the  king  condescended  to  ask  gruffly, 
"What's  the  news  from  Gotland?"  ''Nothing"  re- 
plied Strabagn,  "except  that  a  mare  on  the  island  has 
foaled  three  colts  at  a  birth."  "Ah,"  said  the  king, 
"and  what  does  the  third  colt  do  when  the  other  two 
are  sucking?"  "He  does  as  I  do,"  answered  Long 
Legs;  "he  stands  and  looks  on."  This  stroke  of  wit 
pleased  the  king  and  queen  so  much  that  they  invited 
the  ambassador  to  make  a  third  at  their  table,  and  were 
finally  willing  to  conclude  a  treaty  which  was  as  much  to 
the  advantage  of  Sweden  as  of  Gotland. 

The  thirteenth  century  was  the  Golden  Age  of  Got- 
land. In  this  century  the  great  warehouses  were  built, 
and  it  became  the  commercial  metropoHs  of  northern 
Europe.  There  were  few  stronger  fortresses  in  the  world, 
for  an  enormous  stone  wall  thirty  feet  high  surrounded 
the  city,  and  from  the  wall  no  less  than  forty-eight  huge 
towers  arose. 

It  does  not  take  much  imagination  to  reproduce 
ancient  Visby,  for  thirty-eight  of  the  forty-eight  towers 
are  still  standing.  They  are  more  than  sixty  feet  high, 
and  one  can  see  in  each  of  the  five  stories  the  holes 
through  which  the  archers  fired  their  arrows,  doubtless 
winged  with  death  for  many  a  foe,  while  from  the  battle- 
mented  top  of  the  towers  huge  stones  were  thrown  from 
the  catapults. 

But  in  spite  of  Visby's  isolation,  and  in  spite  of  her 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  105 

mighty  fortifications,  she  was  not  impregnable  as  she 
supposed,  for  in  136 1  Denmark,  which  in  those  early 
days  seems  to  have  always  been  the  evil  genius  of 
Sweden,  sent  an  army  under  the  command  of  King 
Valdemar  Atterdag  to  capture  the  city.  The  people 
behind  their  strong  fortifications  at  first  laughed  at  him 
and  mustered  all  their  troops  to  defend  the  city,  but 
Valdemar  was  victorious,  nearly  two  thousand  of 
Visby's  noblest  defenders  were  slain,  and  the  city  was 
at  the  mercy  of  the  Dane. 

He  would  not  accept  its  surrender  and  accord  it  the 
honors  of  war,  even  after  it  had  capitulated,  but  tore 
down  a  part  of  the  wall  to  prove  his  ruthless  might  and 
marched  as  a  conqueror  to  the  center  of  the  city. 

One  is  reminded  by  Valdemar's  conquest  of  the  hard 
terms  that  Pizarro  made  when  he  conquered  the  Peru- 
vians. You  remember  that  for  the  ransom  of  King 
Atahualpa  he  went  into  a  great  room,  and  drawing  a 
red  mark  on  the  wall  as  high  as  he  could  reach  he  told 
the  Peruvians  that  they  must  fill  that  room  with  gold 
as  high  as  the  red  mark  if  they  would  release  their  king 
from  bondage  and  save  him  from  death. 

King  Valdemar  did  something  of  the  same  sort  to  the 
Visbyites,  for  he  took  the  three  biggest  ale  vats  that  he 
found  in  the  city  and  commanded  the  people  to  fill  them 
with  gold  and  silver  within  three  hours.  So  frightened 
were  the  inhabitants  by  his  bloodthirsty  cruelty  that 
they  obeyed,  stripping  themselves  of  their  golden  orna- 
ments, rifling  their  churches  and  their  treasure-houses, 
until  the  big  vats  were  full  to  the  brim,  ,     . 


io6        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

But  even  this  did  not  avail  to  save  them  from  further 
rapine,  for  Valdemar  made  a  clean  sweep  of  all  that  was 
left  and  poor  Visby  was  plundered  by  the  rapacious 
troops  of  all  her  riches. 

I  should  like  to  be  able  to  tell  you  that  I  saw  the  bones 
of  Valdemar  Attardag  safely  encofl^ed  where  he  could 
do  no  more  harm,  but  the  next  best  thing  was  to  see  the 
Jungfrutornet,  or  the  "Maiden's  Tower,"  where,  ac- 
cording to  tradition,  the  noble  maid  who  opened  the 
gates  of  Visby  to  the  Danish  king,  whom  she  loved,  was 
walled  up  alive.  You  need  not  waste  much  sympathy 
on  this  maiden,  however,  for  I  am  told  on  good  authority 
that  she  is  a  strictly  mythical  girl,  and  that  her  story 
was  invented  by  the  people  of  Visby  to  account  for 
what  many  believed  was  a  somewhat  cowardly  capitula- 
tion of  the  city  to  the  Danes. 

King  Valdemar,  however,  must  have  had  one  or  two 
redeeming  traits  of  character,  for  he  erected  a  great 
stone  cross  on  the  battlefield  to  commemorate  the 
death  of  the  eighteen  hundred  citizens  whom  he  slew. 
The  cross  can  still  be  seen,  scarcely  marred  by  the  pas- 
sage of  these  five  hundred  years,  and  the  inscription  on 
it  is  not  a  record  of  triumph  so  much  as  a  memorial  to 
the  dead. 

You  have  noticed,  perhaps,  that  this  letter  is  dated 
"June  24."  This  date  may  not  have  any  great  signifi- 
cance for  you,  but  it  is  a  high  day  in  Sweden,  perhaps 
the  most  joyous  of  all  the  year,  for  it  is  Midsimimer's 
Day,  the  day  without  a  night  in  many  parts  of  this 
northern  land. 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  107 

In  almost  every  village  in  Sweden  you  will  see  to-day 
a  Majstang.  Perhaps  you  can  guess  that  a  Majstang  is 
a  Maypole,  though  I  think  I  hear  you  say,  'Why  have 
a  Maypole  in  June?"  The  Swedish  word  for  May, 
Majj  is  an  ancient  term  meaning  "green  leaf,"  and 
June  24  is  preeminently  the  Feast  of  the  Green  Leaf. 

It  is  not  the  somber  evergreens,  however,  that  deco- 
rate the  windows  at  Christmas  time  and  that  stand 
dressed  with  Christmas  candles  and  Christmas  gifts; 
the  Midsummer  Tree  is  the  birch.  If  it  should  ever  be 
put  to  a  vote  in  Sweden,  I  think  the  Swedes  would 
decide  that  the  birch  is  their  most  beloved  tree.  It  is 
equally  beautiful  in  summer  and  in  winter.  In  the 
former  its  delicate  drooping  branches  are  covered  with 
green,  and  in  the  latter  with  white.  There  is  nothing 
quite  so  lovely  in  the  northern  latitudes  as  the  birch  trees 
silvered  with  a  thick  coating  of  frost  in  midwinter,  unless 
it  be  these  same  birch  trees  in  their  glad  green  livery  in 
midsummer. 

On  June  23,  in  preparation  for  Midsummer's  Day,  all 
the  lads  and  lassies  that  you  see  in  the  country  will  have 
a  load  of  birch  boughs  on  their  shoulders.  In  Stockholm 
hundreds  of  wagons  and  little  steamers  bring  tens  of 
thousands  of  young  birch  trees  to  the  city,  and  every 
window  and  doorway  is  decorated  with  its  delicate 
green.  Even  the  dray  horses  are  decked  out  in  green, 
and  "the  wearing  of  the  green"  is  more  popular  in 
Sweden  on  June  24  than  in  Ireland  on  March  17. 

This  is  the  out-of-door  festival  of  the  country.  At 
Lulei,  in  the  far  north  the  people  all  flock  on  Midsum- 


io8        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

mer's  Eve  to  a  mountain  near  by  called  Mjaolkudds 
Berget.  Here  each  family  builds  a  small  bonfire  and 
over  it  makes  their  coffee,  which  is  supposed  to  have  a 
peculiar  flavor  and  potency  on  Midsiunmer's  Eve.  The 
midnight  sun  cannot  quite  be  seen  from  Mjaolkudds 
Berget,  but  according  to  the  ancient  custom  the  coffee- 
pot must  be  placed  on  the  hot  coals  just  as  the  last  rim 
of  his  upper  disk  disappears.  Before  the  coffee  is  brewed, 
the  upper  disk  is  again  visible  above  the  horizon,  and 
then  the  coffee  can  be  drunk  by  every  member  of  the 
family,  from  the  great-grandmother  to  the  youngest 
scion. 

This  of  all  days  is  a  day  of  life  and  color  in  Sweden. 
Let  us  not  stay  in  little  Visby,  with  its  mournful  ruins 
reminding  us  of  the  golden  days  of  Gotland,  but  go  out 
into  the  country,  for  nature  is  ever  fresh  and  new.  She 
knows  nothing  about  ruins,  or,  if  she  does  allow  some 
giant  tree  to  totter  and  fall  in  the  forest,  she  soon  covers 
up  his  decaying  form  with  moss  and  creepers.  The  colors 
that  we  see  are  not  all  green  by  any  means,  for  this  is  the 
day  when  Swedish  maidens  adopt  the  bright,  ancient 
costumes  of  their  country,  the  Crown  Princess  herself 
having  set  the  example.  The  Ma3^ole  is  set  up  on 
every  village  green,  and  the  children  first  are  given  the 
right  of  way.  Hand  in  hand  they  romp  around  the  May- 
pole, singing  the  folk  songs  and  the  glees  which  Sweden's 
children  for  many  a  generation  have  sung  on  Midsum- 
mer's Day.  Then  the  older  ones  take  their  place,  and 
all  is  motion  and  gladness  and  color  and  song. 

If  we  should  find  ourselves  in  the  woods  after  the 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  109 

day's  festivities  are  over,  we  should  very  likely  see  some 
silent,  solitary  maidens  wandering  through  the  fields, 
in  the  long  twilight  which  here  lasts  till  midnight.  Do 
not  think  that  they  are  lovelorn  lasses  deserted  by  their 
swains,  for  they  are  simply  seeking  to  know  their  own 
fortunes,  which  Midsummer's  Night  reveals  to  them. 
In  one  of  the  provinces  the  maiden  must  pick  three 
flowers  each,  of  three  different  kinds,  and  must  speak 
to  no  one  until  the  next  morning.  These  flowers  she 
puts  under  her  pillow  when  she  goes  to  bed,  and  if  she 
has  been  conscientiously  tongue-tied,  and  has  been 
quite  alone  when  she  picked  the  flowers,  and  has  re- 
plied to  every  question  which  teasing  suitors  would  put 
to  her  only  by  signs,  she  will  dream  of  her  future  husband, 
and  the  next  morning  will  know  who  he  is  to  be. 

In  other  provinces  she  has  to  pick  nine  dififerent  kinds 
of  flowers  from  as  many  different  farms,  and  this  bouquet 
is  even  more  efficacious  than  a  smaller  one.  Why  should 
we  not  have  such  a  midsummer  holiday  in  America? 
It  is  true  that  we  have  our  Fourth  of  July,  which  is  not 
very  far  from  the  right  date,  but,  however  "safe  and 
sane"  we  may  make  it,  the  Fourth  of  July  can  never  be 
anything  but  a  patriotic  holiday,  nor  should  it  be. 

Thanksgiving  Day  is  too  late  in  the  year  for  an  out- 
of-door  holiday,  and  the  thirtieth  of  May  is  dedicated  to 
a  sacred  celebration  all  its  own.  But  why  should  we  not 
have  one  genuine  out-of-door  day,  a  day  when  we  shall 
see  to  it  that  every  city  child  may  romp  and  play  in 
God's  green  fields,  and  wheu'we  may  make  it  a  joyous 
duty  to  thank  the  Giver  of  all,  not  only  for  the  harvests 


no        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

and  for  the  full  granaries  as  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  but 
for  the  sun  and  the  green  trees  and  the  flowers  and  grass 
and  everything  that  makes  us  glad  to  be  alive?  What 
day  could  be  so  good  for  such  a  celebration  in  America 
as  well  as  in  Sweden  as  Midsunmier's  Day? 

Before  we  bid  good-by  to  Gotland  and  Visby,  let  us 
climb  in  the  late  evening  twilight  the  ruined  towers  of 
the  church  of  St.  Nikolaus.  From  the  old  wall  we  can 
look  out  to  sea,  and  if  our  imagination  is  strong  enough, 
supplemented  by  a  sufficient  knowledge  of  old  traditions, 
perhaps  we  shall  see  an  eerie,  reddish  light  on  the  calm 
waters  of  the  Baltic.  This  light  comes  from  two  great 
carbuncles  in  the  bottom  of  the  Baltic.  These  car- 
buncles once  adorned  the  western  gable  of  the  church 
of  St.  Nikolaus,  where,  according  to  the  tradition, 
"these  carbuncles  shone  with  the  brightness  of  the  sun 
at  noonday,  throughout  the  night,  and  served  as  guiding 
lights  to  storm- tossed  mariners  far  out  on  the  Baltic 
wave.  Twenty-four  soldiers  stood  constantly  on  guard 
to  watch  these  ruddy  gems,  the  most  precious  posses- 
sions of  the  church,  and  no  one,  on  pain  of  death,  might 
approach  the  sanctuary  after  the  going  down  of  the 
sun." 

King  Valdemar  could  not  leave  such  priceless  jewels 
to  St.  Nikolaus,  and  so  he  snatched  them  from  the  rose 
windows  which  they  adorned,  put  them  on  his  biggest 
ship,  and  sailed  away  to  Denmark.  But  justice  followed 
the  sacrilegious  freebooter;  his  ship  was  wrecked  on  one 
of  the  little  islands  which  line  the  coast  of  Gotland,  and 
the  king  himself  barely  escaped  with  his  life.    The  car- 


73 

o 
O 

in 


2 
u 

I 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  iii 

buncles  sank  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  which  accounts 
for  that  strange  glow  which  any  one  with  a  vivid  imagina- 
tion can  see  from  the  mined  tower  of  St.  Nikolaus  as  he 
looks  off  on  the  peaceful  Baltic. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


ELEVENTH  LETTER 

Wherein  something  is  told  of  Sweden's  art  and  artists ;  the  ancient 
rock-cutting  of  Bohus;  the  art  treasures  collected  by  the  heroes 
of  the  Thirty  Years'  War;  Cederstrom's  picture  of  Charles  XII; 
Carl  Larsson's  pictures  of  the  home;  the  mural  paintings  of  the 
schoolhouses;  also  something  about  Sweden's  great  authors  and 
singers. 

Stockholm,  June  30. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

With  your  love  for  libraries  and  picture  galleries  I 
should  not  dare  to  send  you  this  last  letter  from  Sweden 
without  telling  you  something  about  the  Swedes  who 
have  contributed  to  literature  and  art,  though,  if  I 
should  attempt  to  go  into  the  subject  exhaustively,  I 
fear  that  many  names  of  Swedish  artists  and  authors 
would  be  unfamiliar  even  to  you. 

Sweden's  first  and  original  art  gallery  is  a  strange  one 
indeed,  for  it  is  imroofed  except  by  the  blue  dome  of 
heaven,  and  not  a  canvas  hangs  upon  its  walls.  Never- 
theless it  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  galleries  in  all 
Europe.  It  is  found  in  the  province  of  Bohus,  on  the 
west  coast  of  Sweden,  north  of  Gotenburg.  Shall  we 
call  these  old  artists  sculptors  or  painters?  The  material 
that  they  used  was  the  solid  rock,  the  face  of  the  cliffs 
that  slopes  up  gently  from  level  fields.  They  did  not 
chisel  out  a  statue,  but  with  some  bronze  tools  in  lieu 
of  brushes  they  cut  the  figures  which  they  would  por- 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  113 

tray  in  the  rock,  not  making  them  stand  out  as  does  the 
Lion  of  Lucerne,  but  cutting  them  Hke  solid  intagUos 
in  the  face  of  the  rock  itself. 

So  shallow  are  the  cuttings  that  water  has  to  be 
poured  upon  them  to  bring  the  figures  out  from  the  gray- 
rock  in  which  they  are  cut,  but  as  the  water  trickles 
down  from  the  bucket  which  the  stout  maiden  who  acts 
as  guide  and  guardian  of  this  picture  gallery  splashes 
upon  the  rock,  wonderful  shapes  appear:  viking  ships, 
some  large  enough  to  be  manned  by  a  crew  of  one  hun- 
dred men,  evidently  the  warships  of  the  long  ago;  men 
on  horseback  and  men  on  foot;  men  plowing  with 
yokes  of  oxen,  while  now  and  then  there  towers  above 
all  the  men  and  beasts  a  gigantic  figure  with  an  ax  or 
a  thunderbolt  in  his  hand,  no  doubt  the  God  of  War 
imder  whose  aegis  the  old  Northmen  went  out  to  battle. 

The  most  common  of  these  rock  pictures  are  the  rep- 
resentations of  the  viking  ships,  showing  that  in  those 
days,  as  in  these,  the  Scandinavians  were  great  sea-faring 
people.  The  prows  of  these  ancient  piratical  craft  one 
often  sees  reproduced  on  the  roofs  of  Swedish  and  Nor- 
wegian houses  to-day.  Of  course  these  pictures  are  very 
crude,  very  much  such  as  a  child  of  five  years  of  age 
would  draw  upon  his  slate  to-day.  But  that  is  natural, 
for  you  must  remember  that  they  were  drawn  in 
the  childhood  of  Scandinavia,  at  least  twenty-five 
if  not  thirty-five  hundred  years  ago,  for  it  has  been 
proved  conclusively  that  they  were  chiseled  by  men  of 
the  Bronze  Age  of  Sweden,  which  lasted  from  fifteen 
hundred  to  five  himdred  years  before  Christ. 


114        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

We  are  very  grateful  to  you,  crude  artists  of  the  older 
time,  for  your  pictures,  for  they  tell  us  many  things 
about  ancient  Sweden.  They  tell  us  that  you  sailed 
the  seas  in  great  ships  rowed  by  a  hundred  men,  though 
you  do  not  seem  to  have  known  how  to  harness  the 
winds  to  your  craft,  for  we  see  no  signs  of  masts  or 
sails.  We  know  that  you  had  dogs  and  cows  and  horses, 
and  that  you  plowed  your  fields  with  a  crooked  stick 
drawn  by  a  pair  of  oxen.  We  know  that  you  had  carts 
that  ran  on  two  wheels,  and  that  you  were  expert  with 
spear  and  shield,  and  I  venture  to  say  that  your  art 
museima,  old  as  it  is  to-day,  will  last  longer  than  the 
Pitti  or  the  Ufl&zi;  and  long  after  Macaulay's  New  Zea- 
lander  has  gazed  upon  the  ruins  of  London  from  his  pic- 
turesque position  upon  the  bridge,  the  pictures  in  your 
gallery  will  still  lead  mankind  to  speculate  upon  the 
kind  of  folk  whom  you  chiseled  in  the  everlasting  rocks. 
No  fire  can  destroy  your  gallery,  no  thief  can  steal  your 
Mona  Lisa,  no  conqueror  can  carry  away  your  art 
treasures. 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  rock  galleries  of  Bohus  to  the 
fine  collections  of  old  and  new  masters  of  which  Stock- 
holm and  Gotenburg  boast.  Some  of  the  finest  pic- 
tures, too,  are  not  found  in  the  metropoHs  of  either 
eastern  or  western  Sweden,  but  in  the  palaces  and 
castles  which  dot  the  interior  of  the  country.  I  have 
already  told  you  about  some  of  these  palaces  like  Sko- 
kloster  and  others,  which  contain  Correggios  and  Titians 
and  pictures  of  Paul  Veronese,  for  in  the  Thirty  Years' 
War  the  mighty  Swedish  generals  fell  heir  to  many  of 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  115 

the  splendid  picture  galleries  of  southern  Germany,  and 
all  they  had  to  do  was  to  pick  out  the  best  pictures 
by  the  greatest  masters  and  send  them  to  their  north- 
ern home. 

In  those  days  "looting*'  was  not  "stealing/'  at  least 
in  the  eyes  of  the  victors,  and  they  had  this  excuse  at 
least,  that  the  pictures  and  works  of  art,  if  they  had  not 
taken  them,  would  have  fallen  into  worse  hands.  They 
would  have  reminded  you  that  their  great  opponent 
Tilly,  when  he  captured  Heidelberg  and  destroyed  the 
library,  could  find  no  better  use  for  the  most  valuable 
manuscripts  than  to  use  them  as  a  litter  for  his  horses. 
In  this  way  the  Codex  Argenteus,  of  which  I  have  before 
written  you,  was  taken  when  the  Swedes  captured 
Prague  and  sent  on  its  far  journey  to  Upsala. 

I  am  afraid  that  most  of  the  names  of  Swedish  artists 
would  hardly  be  recognized  by  you,  though  I  think  you 
would  admire  some  of  their  paintings  as  much  as  I  do. 
I  have  time  and  room  in  this  letter  to  tell  you  of  only 
two  that  greatly  interested  me. 

Baron  Cederstrom  devoted  himself  to  the  period  of 
Charles  XII,  whose  tragic  story  you  remember.  Ceder- 
strom's  greatest  picture  shows  the  body  of  the  king 
borne  on  a  stretcher  by  a  dozen  soldiers  over  the 
dreary,  snow-covered,  mountainous  defiles  that  separate 
Norway  from  Sweden.  "The  pathos  of  this  pitiable 
end  to  so  glorious  a  career  appears  in  the  attitude  of  a 
solitary  mountain  huntsman,  who,  with  his  boy  and 
dog,  stands  by  the  wayside  as  the  procession  passes. 
He  is  the  only  one  to  doff  his  fur  cap  and  salute  the 


ii6        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

remains  of  one  who  but  a  short  time  before  made  half 
Europe  tremble,  while  the  other  half  was  lost  in  amaze- 
ment at  his  extraordinary  fortimes  and  prodigious 
victories." 

Another  artist  whose  pictures  are  of  unusual  inter- 
est is  Carl  Larsson,  the  most  popular  artist  in  Sweden 
to-day.  He  is.  the  painter  of  the  home,  of  the  fireside 
and  the  nursery,  of  the  sitting  room  and  the  kitchen, 
of  the  boy  and  girl  and  the  grandmother  as  well.  His 
own  son  and  daughter  figure  in  many  of  his  pictures. 

One  that  especially  impressed  me  was  a  canvas  rep- 
resenting this  same  son  and  daughter  gazing  at  a  skull 
on  the  center  table  in  their  home.  The  look  of  serious 
half-comprehension  on  the  girl's  face  as  she  points  out 
the  skull  to  her  brother,  and  of  half-frightened  awe 
with  which  he  gazes  at  it,  will  not  soon  fade  from  my 
mind.  Another  portrait  of  his  daughter  leaning  against 
a  birch  tree,  the  white  bark  and  new  leaves  no  purer 
than  her  own  sweet  face,  is  also  a  picture  to  be  remem- 
bered. It  has  been  copied  upon  so  many  postcards 
that  the  Swedes,  at  least,  are  not  likely  to  forget  it. 

Mr.  Von  Heidenstam  well  characterized  Larsson 
when  he  says:  "His  audacity,  his  love  of  novelty  and 
adventure,  the  freshness  of  his  impressions,  the  youth- 
fulness  of  his  enthusiasms,  and  his  whole  vision  of  life 
are  Scandinavian  to  the  core.  In  his  pictures  of  home 
life,  mostly  taken  from  his  own  home,  he  is  genial,  happy, 
fond  of  bright  colors,  of  flowers  and  simshine,  enrap- 
tured with  existence,  and  prone  to  see  its  bright  side." 

The  Swedes  are  wise  in  not  relegating  all  the  paintings 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  117 

of  their  best  artists  to  museums  or  picture  galleries, 
which  are  seldom  visited  by  the  people,  but  many  of 
the  higher  and  even  primary  schools  in  Stockholm  and 
other  cities  have  been  adorned  with  mural  paintings  by 
their  best  artists:  Larsson,  Prince  Eugene,  Oscar  Bjorck, 
Thegerstrom,  and  Nils  Kreuger  are  all  well-known 
painters,  who  have  put  some  of  their  best  work  upon 
the  walls  of  Sweden's  schoolhouses,  picturing  land- 
scapes, national  customs,  and  some  of  the  great  events 
in  Sweden's  history,  and  placing  them  where  Sweden's 
children  cannot  help  being  impressed  by  them. 

I  cannot  honestly  say  that  the  chief  charm  of  Sweden 
consists  in  the  spell  which  her  artists  have  woven  about 
her,  and  I  suppose  few  people  would  come  to  Sweden 
to  study  art.  Her  real  fascination  lies  in  her  glorious 
out-of-doors  —  in  her  noble  forests,  her  shimmering 
lakes,  her  glorious  snow  fields  and  frost  sculpture  in 
winter,  her  rushing  rivers  and  turbulent  rapids  —  all 
these  things  I  have  tried  to  tell  you  about,  and  this  is 
the  raw  material  of  the  artist. 

Compared  with  Italy  or  Spain,  Sweden's  art  is  yet 
very  young,  but,  with  such  models  as  nature's  lavish 
hands  has  furnished  on  every  side,  it  seems  to  me  very 
probable  that  the  great  artists  of  the  future  will  be 
found  in  these  Scandinavian  lands. 

I  wish  they  would  spend  more  time  in  Lapland  in 
midwinter.  I  wish  they  would  paint  for  us  the  little 
trees  that  Jack  Frost  converts  into  white  coral  every 
day.  I  wish  they  would  paint  for  us  the  rare  combina- 
tion of  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  the  glowing  sky  where  the 


ii8        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

sun  never  rises  at  all.  I  wish  they  would  show  him  to 
us  not  only  on  the  longest  day  of  the  year  at  midnight, 
as  they  have  often  done,  but  on  the  shortest  days,  as 
he  peers  timidly  above  the  horizon,  or  goes  bowling 
along  for  an  hour  or  two  on  its  very  edge.  These  are 
pictures  which  no  country  but  Sweden  furnishes  in  their 
perfection,  and  pictures  which  the  Swedish  artist  could 
most  easily  reproduce  and  which  would  make  his  canvas 
immortal. 

The  authors  of  Sweden  are  many  and  well  beloved. 
I  can  name  but  two  of  them  here,  though  I  fear  the 
Swedes  will  never  forgive  me  if  I  do  not  mention  Bell- 
man, their  Robert  Burns,  and  some  others.  I  pick  out 
these  two  because  they  are  as  well  beloved  in  America 
as  in  Sweden.  Tegner  is  one  of  them.  He  may  be 
called,  perhaps,  the  Macaulay  of  Sweden,  only  his  lays 
are  not  those  of  ancient  Rome,  but  of  ancient  Sweden. 
Someone  has  said  that  "his  heroic  poems  sent  a  thrill 
through  old  and  young  when  first  they  were  published." 
He  became  popular  throughout  all  Europe,  and  more 
than  fifty  translations  of  his  poems  are  foimd  in  a  dozen 
different  European  languages. 

Longfellow  made  him  known  and  loved  by  American 
readers  by  his  beautiful  translation  of  the  Children  of 
the  Lord's  Supper.  "The  scene  in  the  country  church, 
decked  out  with  flowers  and  evergreens  for  the  solemn 
ceremony,  the  rustic  boys  and  girls  bowing  and  curtsy- 
ing as  they  made  their  responses  before  the  assembled 
congregation,  and  the  attitude  and  words  of  the  patri- 
archal pastor  are  all  true  to  life." 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  119 

Another  of  your  best-loved  authors,  Judicia,  I  must 
remind  you,  was  also  a  Swede  —  Frederika  Bremer. 
She  was  also  more  than  a  writer  of  charming  tales. 
She  was  an  ardent  champion  of  woman's  rights,  but  I 
warrant  you  she  would  never  have  used  dynamite  in 
obtaining  them,  or  have  poured  paint  into  letter  boxes 
to  secure  "votes  for  women."  Her  good  work  for  their 
uplift  is  still  carried  on  by  the  "Frederika  Bremer 
Union."  It  protects  and  encourages  women  who  are 
struggling  to  make  a  place  for  themselves  in  the  world, 
and  seeks  in  every  way  to  raise  the  standard  of  woman's 
work  and  wages.  Our  former  American  Minister,  Mr. 
Thomas,  gives  an  interesting  account  of  a  call  he  made 
upon  her  in  1864,  nearly  fifty  years  ago,  only  a  year 
before  her  death: 

"Up  three  flights  of  a  stone  stairway  to  a  little  land- 
ing, I  make  my  way,"  he  says.  "A  curtsying  Swedish 
maid  answers  my  knock  and  shows  me  into  a  cozy  sit- 
ting room.  Presently  a  little  old  woman  with  a  decided 
stoop  in  her  shoulders  enters  and  meets  me  with  ex- 
tended hand  and  a  pleasant  smile,  bidding  me  welcome 
with  one  of  the  sweetest  voices  I  ever  listened  to.  This 
was  one  forenoon  in  January,  1864.  The  cozy  sitting 
room  was  in  Stockholm  in  the  fourth  story  of  a  brick 
house,  on  the  long  Drottning-Gatan,  and  the  little  old 
woman  was  Frederika  Bremer,  the  great  Swedish 
novelist." 

This  was  in  the  darkest  period  of  our  Civil  War.  Mr. 
Thomas  asked  Miss  Bremer  for  her  autograph  for  the 
Sanitary  Conamission  Fair,  soon  to  be  held  in  New 


I20        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

York,  explaining  that  the  proceeds  would  be  devoted  to 
the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers.  "It  will  give  me  real 
joy,"  she  said,  "to  do  anything  to  help  on  liberty  in 
America,  or  to  comfort  the  soldiers  who  have  become 
disabled  in  fighting  for  it."  Her  eyes  beamed  brightly 
as  she  spoke,  and  her  whole  manner  showed  how  ac- 
tively she  was  interested  in  our  cause  and  country. 

"This  interesting  tete-d-tete  gave  me  the  best  oppor- 
tunity for  observing  Miss  Bremer,"  continues  Mr. 
Thomas.  "The  stoop  of  her  shoulders  was  hid  in  the 
ample  cushions  of  her  easy  chair.  A  neat,  white  lace 
cap  covered  her  head.  Her  gray  hair  was  brushed 
straight  back  from  a  noble,  lofty  forehead,  white  as 
marble,  and  her  mild  blue  eyes  beamed  with  a  tender 
compassion  that  made  one  forget  the  great  author  in 
the  sympathizing  friend  and  compelled  me  to  call  her 
beautiful,  for  beauty  of  soul  shone  forth  in  every 
glance." 

I  have  quoted  this  intimate  description,  for  ther©  are 
few  living  Americans  who  have  actually  seen  and  talked 
with  the  gentle  authoress,  and  I  fear  me  there  are  few 
Americans  who  read  her  books  to-day,  but  you  have 
not  forgotten  how,  in  our  early  days,  her  pure  and 
wholesome  novels  were  justly  admired  and  loved. 

Do  you  remember  the  Httle  girl  who  for  some  childish 
misdemeanor  was  shut  up  in  a  dark  closet  as  a  punish- 
ment, and  how  she  found  there  Miss  Bremer's  Home 
Life,  and  how  she  lay  down  at  full  length  on  the  floor, 
placing  the  book  as  near  the  crack  of  the  door  as  she 
could,  reading  the  story  nearly  half  through  before  the 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  121 

time  of  her  punishment  had  expired?  She  gained  more 
from  her  punishment  than  anyone  but  herself  knew,  for 
Frederika  Bremer's  charming  picture  of  home  Hfe  re- 
mained with  her  as  an  inspiration  through  all  her  life. 

Speaking  of  our  early  days,  Judicia,  I  was  reminded 
that  we  must  belong  to  a  former  generation  when  I 
asked  Aylmer  when  we  were  together  in  Lulea  what  he 
knew  about  Jenny  Lind,  the  great  Swedish  soprano. 
Would  you  believe  it,  he  had  never  heard  of  her?  The 
singer  who  made  the  greatest  sensation  in  America  of 
anyone  that  every  crossed  the  ocean;  the  singer  who 
was  as  good  as  she  was  beautiful,  and  whose  voice  was 
no  purer  or  sweeter  than  her  life!  We  at  least  know 
how  the  ticket  offices  were  besieged  by  eager  thousands 
who  wished  to  hear  her  voice,  and  what  extravagant 
prices,  as  they  were  then  considered,  were  paid  for  her 
concerts.  And  yet  Aylmer  had  never  heard  of  this  most 
famous  of  all  northern  warblers,  of  this  great  philan- 
thropist, as  she  became  in  her  later  life!  Moreover  he 
confided  to  me  that  he  had  never  heard  of  Christine 
Nilsson,  a  more  modem  singer  of  almost  equal  fame. 
Well,  well,  we  must  be  growing  antiquated! 

There  is  one  man  who  to  be  sure  cannot  be  classed 
as  an  artist  or  an  author,  and  yet  I  suppose  he  has  done 
more  for  hterature  as  well  as  for  science  and  the  cause 
of  peace  than  any  other  man  in  Sweden.  This  is  Alfred 
Nobel,  the  inventor  of  dynamite,  an  article  which  we 
chiefly  associate  with  war,  but  which  has  really  done 
more  to  revolutionize  mining  and  engineering.  Thanks 
to  dynamite,  it  has  been  possible  to  bore  the  mighty 


122        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

tunnels  through  the  Alps;  to  knock  down  the  iron 
mountains  of  northern  Sweden  and  send  them  off  piece- 
meal to  other  parts  of  the  earth;  to  dig  the  subways  of 
New  York  and  Boston  and  Chicago,  and  to  tunnel  the 
North  River  for  the  commuters  of  Manhatten.  No 
man  ever  did  more  good  with  his  vast  wealth,  or  dis- 
posed of  it  more  wisely  when  he  died,  than  Alfred  Nobel, 
and  now  each  year  magnificent  awards  of  some  forty 
thousand  dollars  each  are  given  by  this  foundation  to 
people  who  have  achieved  great  things  in  physics,  in 
medicine,  in  Hterature,  and  for  peace. 

You  will  observe,  Judicia,  that  I  have  not  bored  you 
with  any  stories  of  Swedish  games  and  sports,  of  skiing 
and  ski  jumping,  of  bobsleighing  and  rodeling,  and 
that  I  have  not  even  alluded  to  Swedish  gymnastics. 
There  is  a  method  in  my  seeming  madness,  for  though 
I  am  much  interested  in  these  matters,  especially  in  the 
out-of-door  sports,  I  am  not  quite  so  wild  about  them 
as  is  Aylmer,  and,  since  they  are  conmaon  to  all  Scan- 
dinavia, I  will  leave  them  for  him  to  describe  and  thus 
give  his  Norway  a  great  advantage,  when  you  come  to 
hold  the  scales  of  justice  between  the  eastern  and  western 
lands  of  the  peninsida.  But  I  beg  you  to  remember 
that  Sweden  is  quite  as  famous  in  these  particulars  as 
her  sister  kingdom  across  the  mountains. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


TWELFTH  LETTER 

Relates  to  Finland;  why  it  should  be  included  in  Scandinavia;  its 
earlier  and  later  history;  its  degradation  by  Russia;  the  charm- 
ing journey  from  Stockholm  to  Abo;  and  tells  of  a  winter  adven- 
ture in  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia. 

Abo,  Finland,  July  i. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  wonder  if  you  are  asking  why  I  include  Finland  in 
the  letters  which  we  submit  to  you  in  regard  to  the  rela- 
tive merits  of  the  different  parts  of  Scandinavia.  Do 
I  hear  you  say  that  Finland  is  a  part  of  Russia,  and  that 
the  Finns  are  not  even  of  Aryan  stock  like  the  Swedes, 
but  are  descendants  of  Turanian  tribes,  "first  cousins  to 
the  Hungarians, and  forty-second  cousins  to  the  Turks''  ? 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  all  this,  I  must  maintain  that 
Finland  is  more  a  part  of  Scandinavia  and  more  nearly  re- 
lated to  the  Swedes  in  customs,  temperament,  and  manner 
of  Hfe  than  to  any  other  nation.  The  Swedes  were  the 
people  who  found  the  Finns  in  barbaric  heathenism,  who 
Christianized  and  civilized  them,  though  it  must  be 
acknowledged  that,  in  doing  this,  they  conquered  and 
sometimes  exploited  them  at  the  same  time.  For  four 
hundred  and  fifty  years  after  this  conquest  by  Sweden 
the  Finns  constituted  a  loyal  and  devoted  part  of  the 
Swedish  kingdom,  speaking  the  Swedish  language  al- 
most as  freely  as  their  own,  adopting  Swedish  laws  and 


124        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

customs,  and  equal  in  political  and  social  rights  to  their 
neighbors  across  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia. 

It  was  only  about  a  hundred  years  ago  that  they  were 
conquered  by  the  Russians,  when,  after  centuries  of 
struggle,  Sweden's  domains  were  rent  in  twain. 

To  prove  my  contention  that  to  all  intents  and  pur- 
poses Finland  should  be  considered  a  part  of  Scandina- 
via, I  must  remind  you  that  long  before  the  Finns  came 
to  Finland  the  southern  part  of  their  country  was  doubt- 
less inhabited  by  Scandinavians.  One  writer  tells  us 
that  they  were 'there  "thousands  of  years  before  the 
Finns  arrived."  But  way  off  beyond  Persia  were 
some  Turanian  tribes,  related  to  the  Mongols  and  the 
Manchus,  who  started  on  that  everlasting  trek  toward 
the  west,  which,  since  the  days  of  the  Pharaohs,  seems 
to  have  urged  the  Eastern  peoples  on  toward  the  set- 
ting sun. 

They  seem  to  have  tarried  in  Persia  for  awhile  and 
to  have  brought  with  them  some  Persian  coins,  which 
to  this  day  are  occasionally  unearthed  in  Finland.  On 
and  on  they  pressed,  the  first  of  the  Eastern  hordes  to 
cross  the  Ural  mountains,  until  they  came,  some  to  the 
banks  of  the  Danube  and  others  to  the  shores  of  the 
Baltic.  The  tribes  who  settled  the  fertile  plains  of 
Hungary  are  the  Magyars  of  to-day;  those  who  pushed 
on  to  the  Baltic  Sea  are  the  Finns. 

Eric  XI  of  Sweden  was  the  first  king  to  turn  his  at- 
tention particularly  toward  Finland.  He  seems  to 
have  desired  not  only  the  conquest  of  the  Finns  but 
their  conversion  to  Christianity,  and  so  he  is  known 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  125 

both  as  King  Eric  and  St.  Eric.  It  was  no  easy  job, 
however,  to  conquer  this  slow,  obstinate,  patient  race, 
and  it  was  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  or,  to  be  exact, 
in  1293,  that  Sweden^s  conquest  was  complete.  She 
soon  set  an  example  to  all  future  conquerors,  an 
example  by  which  Great  Britain  has  so  well  profited 
in  these  later  days  by  giving  perfect  liberty  to  the 
conquered  peoples  and  confirming  their  liberties  by  an 
irrevocable  law. 

Nothing  better  ever  happened  to  the  Finns  than  this 
conquest  by  the  Swedes.  Christianity,  civilization, 
education,  and  an  invaluable  training  in  liberty  under 
law  was  the  result,  until  the  descendants  of  those  wild 
tribes  from  the  steppes  of  Asia  have  become  one  of  the 
most  civilized,  enHghtened,  and  perhaps  the  best  edu- 
cated nation  in  the  world. 

Says  Ernest  Young,  in  his  interesting  book  on  Finland: 
"It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  Finnish  and  Swedish 
populations  of  Finland,  though  running  like  two  dif- 
ferent streams  beside  each  other  without  blending, 
never  rose  against  each  other,  but,  on  the  contrary,  al- 
ways stood  side  by  side  in  the  same  rank  whenever 
sword  was  drawn  at  home  or  abroad.  There  was  rivalry 
between  them,  but  no  oppression.  .  .  .  The  laws  and 
social  order  of  Sweden  were  introduced  without  resist- 
ance into  a  country  where  law  and  society  did  not  exist 
before.  The  people  grew  into  these  new  forms,  applied 
them  according  to  their  characters,  and  became 
familiar  with  them  as  their  own." 

Would  that  Russia  could  have  learned  a  lesson  that 


126        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Sweden  taught  to  all  the  world,  concerning  conquered 
provinces.  At  first  it  seemed  as  though  she  had  done  so, 
and  no  one  ever  spoke  fairer  words  to  a  conquered  people 
than  Czar  Alexander  I  spoke  to  the  Finns  through  the 
Governor-general  in  the  "Act  of  Assurance,'^  given  to 
the  first  Finnish  Diet  that  convened  after  the  cession 
of  Finland  to  Russia  by  the  Swedes. 

At  first  it  seemed  as  though  these  fair  promises  would 
be  fulfilled,  and  for  a  time,  doubtless,  Finland  was  better 
off  under  Russian  rule  than  she  had  been  during  the 
hundreds  of  years  previously  when  she  had  been  the 
battleground,  continually  tramped  over  by  Swedish  and 
Russian  soldiers,  and  reddened  with  their  blood  as  well 
as  by  that  of  her  own  citizens. 

Each  succeeding  Czar  seems  to  have  treated  Finland 
according  to  his  own  whims,  or  those  of  his  prime  min- 
ister, and  with  little  consideration  to  the  fundamental 
laws  of  the  land  so  solemnly  guaranteed  and  sworn  to  by 
each  Czar  as  he  came  to  the  throne. 

Little  by  Httle  the  Russians  have  been  filching  away 
the  liberties  of  the  Finns,  depriving  them  of  one  boon 
after  another,  and  ever  threatening  them  with  still  direr 
evils.  Finnish  soldiers  are  no  longer  allowed  to  enlist 
for  the  defense  of  their  fatherland,  but  instead  they 
must  pay  a  tribute  to  Russia  and  allow  uncleanly  Rus- 
sian soldiers  to  be  quartered  in  the  beautiful  barracks 
built  for  their  own  troops.  Finnish  stamps  are  no  longer 
good  for  letters  that  go  outside  of  Finland,  and  the  marks 
and  pennys  in  which  they  have  reckoned  their  cur- 
rency from  time  immemorial  must  give  way  to  the  more 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  127 

awkward  ruble  and  kopeck  with  which  they  would 
prefer  to  have  nothing  to  do. 

In  mean  and  picayunish  ways  the  government  inter- 
feres with  their  Kberties.  For  instance,  the  people  voted 
not  long  ago  for  the  prohibition  of  alcohohc  drinks,  but 
the  Czar,  in  his  superior  wisdom,  doubtless  absolutely 
inspired  by  his  ministers,  decreed  that  prohibition  was 
not  good  for  the  Finns  (and  very  likely  not  good  for  the 
Russian  revenues),  and  so  vetoed  the  law  which  had  met 
with  universal  favor. 

The  Finnish  Diet  meets  in  a  rather  shabby  and  ante- 
quated  building,  but  the  people  have  obtained  a  good 
site  for  a  new  parhament  house  and  have  raised  the 
money  for  the  construction  of  a  splendid  building  that 
would  ornament  the  fine  city  of  Helsingfors.  Now  the 
Czar  tells  them  that  they  cannot  afford  a  new  building, 
and  withholds  his  approval,  so  that  they  cannot  do  what 
they  please  with  their  own  money.  Some  think  that 
since  he  has  had  no  use  for  a  Finnish  parliament,  and 
soon  intends  to  suppress  it  altogether,  he  sees  no  use 
for  a  parliament  house. 

The  Finns  number  only  three  millions  of  people,  and 
the  Russians  on  their  very  borders,  people  of  an  alien 
race  and  an  aHen  rehgion,  who  have  scarcely  yet  emerged 
from  barbarism,  are  more  than  a  hundred  million  strong, 
and  that  tells  the  whole  story. 

The  trek  that  was  begun  by  the  Finns  before  the 
Christian  Era  has  been  again  taken  up  since  Russia 
began  to  stamp  out  their  liberties.  More  than  three 
hundred  thousand  of  them  have  come  to  our  shores,  and 


128        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

no  people  should  receive  a  heartier  welcome  in  Yankee 
land  than  they. 

"In  1894  a  statue  to  their  beloved  Czar,  Alexander  II, 
was  unveiled  at  Helsingfors,  a  statue  which  is  one  of  the 
noblest  works  of  art  in  the  capital  and  which  is  still  often 
decorated  with  wreaths  and  flowers  by  the  grateful 
Finns.  It  is  almost  unbelievable  that  'when  this  statue 
was  imveiled  the  (jovemor-general  forbade  the  singing 
of  an  ode  written  for  that  occasion,  because  he  took  the 
phrase  *The  Father  of  Finnish  hberties  '  to  imply  a  con- 
demnation of  his  less  enlightened  successor." 

Perhaps  you  would  like  to  read  a  translation  of  one 
verse  of  this  ode,  which  tells  of  the  gratitude  of  the  Fin- 
nish people  to  the  one  who  restored  their  hberties,  while 
at  the  same  time  it  shows  how  far  removed  from  such 
praise  is  a  government  which  could  prohibit  the  singing 
of  such  a  hynm.    Here  is  the  first  verse: 

"Hail  noble  prince!    From  town  and  land 
Our  greetings  come,  from  isle  and  strand, 

From  forest,  hill  and  dale. 
Wherever  Finland's  folks  may  rest, 
Their  debt  for  all  they  value  best, 

In  love  to  thee  they  pay." 

This  excursion  into  Swedish  history  is  longer  than  I 
intended,  and  has  prevented  me  from  telHng  you  before 
that  I  left  Stockholm  last  night  on  one  of  the  dehghtful 
little  steamers  that  ply  across  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia  from 
Sweden's  capital  to  Abo,  the  ancient  capital  of  Finland. 

It  is  a  charming  sail.  Much  of  the  time  we  were  within 
sight  of  land,  and  some  of  the  most  picturesque  land  in 
the  world.    A  perfect  swarm  of  islands  of  all  sizes  and 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  129 

shapes  guard  the  coasts  both  of  Finland  and  Sweden. 
Some  of  these  islands  are  tree-clad  down  to  the  water's 
edge;  others  are  bare,  gaunt,  smooth  rocks,  whose  sur- 
face has  been  washed  by  ten  thousand  storms  —  I  was 
about  to  say  ten  thousand  tides  when  I  remembered  that 
the  Baltic  is  almost  a  tideless  sea.  It  is  a  sea,  too,  that 
is  being  constantly  conquered  by  the  land,  for,  through 
some  unexplained  action  of  mighty  subterranean  forces, 
without  volcanic  shock  or  earthquake  tremor,  the 
land  both  of  the  Swedish  and  Finnish  shores  is  gradually 
rising.  On  the  northern  end  of  the  Baltic  the  land  gains 
on  the  water  at  the  rate  of  about  four  feet  in  a  hundred 
years,  and  that  the  sea  is  at  a  very  different  level  from 
what  it  was  some  thousands  of  years  ago  is  shown  by  the 
fact  that  the  remains  of  viking  ships  are  found  on  the 
tops  of  very  considerable  hills  at  some  distance  from  the 
shores. 

After  sailing  across  a  strip  of  clear  water  free  from 
islands,  between  which  we  thread  our  way  for  three  hours 
after  leaving  Stockholm,  we  come  to  Mariehamn, 
about  halfway  between  the  two  shores.  Then  comes 
another  Uttle  stretch  of  clear  water,  and  then  another 
great  archipelago  like  the  one  on  the  Swedish  shore,  and 
between  hundreds  of  Httle  islands  and  great  islands  our 
steamer  makes  its  way  to  its  berth  in  the  port  of  Abo. 

Very  much  like  its  neighboring  shore  on  the  opposite 
side  is  the  approach  to  Abo.  Some  of  the  islands  are 
mere  bare  rocks,  sticking  their  heads  only  a  few  feet  above 
the  surface  of  the  sea,  while  others  contain  farms  and 
forests  and  a  considerable  population.    Many  beautiful 


I30        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

villas  adorn  some  of  these  islands,  and  a  rare  place  they 
afford  for  a  hoUday  or  a  summer  residence. 

But  the  Finnish  shore  can  boast  islands  enough  to 
furnish  one  for  every  day  of  a  decade,  and  before  the  next 
decade  is  over  very  likely  some  new  ones  will  arise  above 
the  surface  of  the  water,  like  the  one  which  had  almost 
come  to  the  surface  in  1907,  but  not  near  enough  to  be 
charted,  or  to  prevent  the  wreckage  of  the  Czar's  yacht 
upon  it.  ' 

Sweden  and  Finland  rest  upon  the  same  submerged 
plateau  of  solid  rock,  which  adds  another  proof  to  my 
contention  that,  for  all  practical  and  descriptive  pur- 
poses at  least,  Finland  must  still  be  considered  a  part  of 
Scandinavia. 

Though  one  crosses  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia  in  the  night, 
he  does  not  cross  in  the  dark,  for  at  this  midsummer  sea- 
son there  is  no  real  darkness  in  this  fairyland  of  mid- 
night dawn.  I  was  reminded  very  forcibly  by  contrast 
of  the  last  time  I  crossed  this  bit  of  blue  sea,  for  it  was 
then  a  white  sea.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  it  could 
rest  upon  nothing  but  ice,  solid  fields  of  it,  to  the  north 
and  south,  to  the  east  and  west. 

Soon  after  we  started  it  grew  dark,  for  it  was  mid- 
winter then.  A  blinding  snowstorm  came  on;  the  road- 
way between  the  ice  floes  was  a  narrow  one,  and,  that  we 
might  keep  a  straight  course,  a  powerful  searchlight 
rigged  to  the  foremast  was  set  blazing,  and  its  blinding 
white  light,  far  out  over  the  expanse  of  ice  and  snow, 
showed  the  narrow  line  of  blue  through  which  we  must 
steer.     Sometimes  we  would  pass  a  steamer  with  a 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  131 

searchlight  of  her  own,  dazzling  us  for  a  moment  with 
her  radiance,  while  we  returned  the  compliment  by 
throwing  our  searchlight  into  her  eyes. 

Men  with  lanterns  and  sledges  came  from  the  towns 
on  the  shore,  far  out  from  the  land,  to  get  the  cargo  meant 
for  their  port,  and  could  come  right  up  to  the  steamer's 
side,  for  the  ice  made  a  continual  wharf  forty  miles  long 
to  the  sea. 

When  we  struck  the  ice  on  the  Finnish  shore  we  found 
a  different  "proposition,"  which  the  little  Wellamo  at- 
tacked right  bravely,  and  for  six  hours  or  more  we  made 
good  headway.  When  the  ice  was  only  three  or  four 
inches  thick  she  would  go  through  it  as  a  cat  would  go 
through  a  pan  of  cream;  when  it  was  six  or  eight  inches 
thick  it  was  Hke  plowing  through  soft  butter;  when 
it  grew  to  be  a  foot  thick  it  was  Hke  cutting  our  way 
through  a  stiff  old  cheese;  and  when  the  ice  became  two 
feet  thick  or  more  it  was  too  much  for  the  Wellamo j 
powerful  as  her  engines  were. 

She  would  fall  back  and  butt  the  ice  again  and  again 
and  again,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  She  would  crunch  it 
under  her  forefoot,  and  would  almost  rise  on  top  of  it, 
but  it  would  always  pile  itself  up  in  resistless  masses  in 
front  of  her. 

Another  ice-breaker  came  out  from  the  Finnish  shore 
to  help  us,  but  she  proved  of  no  avail,  and  was  soon  fast 
and  tight  in  the  ice  two  hundred  yards  from  us.  All  day 
long  the  captain  and  crew  worked  to  get  us  free.  A 
dozen  men  with  ice  picks  and  axes  hewed  away  at  the 
frosty  enemy  that  held  us  fast,  but  why  the  captain  let 


132        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

them  wear  out  their  muscles  in  attempting  the  impos- 
sible I  could  not  understand,  for  a  tribe  of  Brownies 
might  just  as  well  attempt  to  level  the  Andes. 

Families  of  seals  came  up  through  their  breathing  holes 
to  look  at  us.  They  usually  consisted  of  the  old  father 
and  mother  seal  and  one  or  two  white,  shaggy  little 
babies,  that  looked  like  Uttle  polar  bears.  They  were 
very  tame  and  would  let  me  go  within  twenty  feet  of 
them,  when  I  left  the  steamer  to  pay  them  a  visit. 
Then  they  would  waddle  off  into  the  water.  Sometimes 
a  mother  seal  would  poke  her  baby  off  the  ice  floe  into  the 
water  out  of  harm's  way,  which  the  little  fellow  appar- 
ently resented,  for  he  would  shake  his  shaggy  head  and 
scramble  up  on  the  ice  again. 

Surrounded  by  these  interesting  and  novel  scenes,  we 
spent  thirty  hours  ice-bound  in  the  Baltic.  Then  the 
biggest  ice-breaker  of  all,  the  Sampo,  came  to  our  rescue 
and  landed  us  safely  in  Finland,  after  two  nights  and  a 
day  in  the  ice  floe. 

I  was  forcibly  reminded  of  this  memorable  journey,  be- 
cause last  night  we  sailed  on  the  same  stanch  little 
steamer,  the  Wellamo,  across  smiling  waters  and  be- 
tween charming  islands,  with  the  sun  to  light  our  way 
for  the  most  part  instead  of  the  electric  Hghts,  and  when 
we  reached  the  harbor  there  was  that  same  benevolent 
old  Sampo,  the  ice-breaker,  that  released  us  from  our 
imprisonment,  lying  at  the  wharf.  Her  occupation  is 
gone  for  the  present,  for,  imtil  next  winter  at  least,  she 
will  not  have  to  relieve  any  smaller  steamers  in  distress, 
but  can  shove  her  ugly  but  useful  nose  in  and  out  among 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  133 

the  islands,  whose  people  doubtless  welcome  her  coining 
as  we  so  gladly  welcomed  her  on  that  January  night 
which  I  have  described. 

The  interesting  sights  and  peoples  whom  I  found  on 
my  arrival  in  Abo  I  must  describe  in  another  letter. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


THIRTEENTH  LETTER 

Relates  to  Abo,  the  ancient  capital  of  Finland;  tells  of  its  famous 
castle  and  the  picture  of  the  scene  once  enacted  there ;  its  market 
place;  its  hospitable  people;  its  fine  old  Cathedral;  the  tombs 
of  the  heroes  of  the  Thirty  Years'  War  and  of  Queen  Katherine, 
the  peasant  queen  of  Sweden. 

Abo,  Finland,  July  lo. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

Finland  has  four  important  commercial  ports — Abo, 
Hango,  Helsingfors,  and  Viborg.  The  two  former  are 
available  in  winter,  for  though  not  ice  free,  as  the  ex- 
perience I  related  in  the  last  chapter  proves,  the  ice- 
breakers can  usually  plow  their  way  through  and  reach 
their  berths  in  the  course  of  time.  Helsingfors  and 
Viborg,  however,  are  usually  impossible  in  the  winter 
time. 

I  was  not  sorry  that  my  engagements  led  me  first  to 
Abo,  for  historically  it  is  the  most  interesting  town  in 
Finland.  It  is  true  that  it  is  robbed  of  its  ancient  glory 
as  the  capital  of  the  country  and  the  seat  of  its  great 
imiversity,  for  both  the  capital  and  the  university  have 
been  removed  within  the  last  hundred  years  to  the  more 
eligible  site  of  Helsingfors.  But  Abo  has  lost  little  time 
in  crying  over  spilt  milk  or  bewailing  its  ancient  glories. 
Especially  of  late  she  has  been  making  the  most  of  her 
fine  situation,  as  the  city  nearest  to  its  neighbor,  Sweden, 
and  has  greatly  developed  its  commercial  possibilities. 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  135 

The  port  is  a  mile  or  more  away  from  the  heart  of  the 
city,  with  which  it  is  connected  by  a  line  of  electric  cars. 
Almost  the  first  thing  that  I  saw  on  landing  was  a  huge 
building  covered  with  gray  plaster.  I  found  it  difficult 
to  decide  whether  it  was  a  warehouse,  a  factory,  or  a 
prison.  I  was  wrong  in  all  my  guesses,  for  it  was  Abo's 
famous  castle,  one  of  the  great  historic  landmarks  of 
Finland,  and  now  converted  into  a  museum,  where  one 
can  study  the  costumes,  the  ancient  armor,  the  furniture, 
and  the  articles  of  home  life  of  this  hardy,  vigorous  race. 

The  scene  of  one  of  the  most  interesting  pictures  that 
I  ever  saw  is  laid  in  this  old  castle.  It  is  by  Edelfelt, 
and  now  hangs  in  the  national  gallery  at  Helsingfors. 

In  a  room  of  state  in  the  old  fortress  lies  an  open 
coffin,  in  which  is  seen  the  face  of  a  stern  warrior  with 
a  long,  flowing  beard.  Another  soldier  is  standing  by, 
with  wrath  upon  his  features,  and,  violating  the  sanctity 
of  death,  he  pulls  violently  at  the  dead  man's  beard.  A 
lady  of  noble  mien  is  standing  near,  resentment  and 
haughty  indignation  depicted  on  her  queenly  face. 

The  great  picture,  perhaps  the  most  famous  and 
dramatic  one  ever  painted  by  a  Finnish  artist,  tells  its 
own  story,  and  when  we  know  a  little  of  Finnish  history 
we  can  easily  interpret  it.  The  old  man  in  the  coffin  is 
Klas  Fleming,  the  commander  of  the  castle;  the  soldier 
standing  by  and  pulling  the  dead  man's  beard  is  Duke 
Carl  of  Sweden,  afterwards  King  Charles  IX,  who  was 
striving  to  gain  the  throne  and  whom  the  Finns  had 
vigorously  opposed  in  favor  of  Sigismund  their  king. 
The  duke  could  not  capture  the  castle  while  the  old 


136        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

commander  was  alive,  but  when  he  was  killed  it  soon 
capitulated. 

Angry  at  the  long  resistance,  Duke  Carl  could  only- 
vent  his  wrath  by  showing  an  indignity  to  the  dead. 
Turning  to  the  commandant's  wife,  who  was  standing 
by,  he  said,  "If  your  husband  were  living  his  head 
would  not  be  as  safe  as  it  is  now."  But  the  countess, 
undaunted,  replied,  while  her  eyes  flashed  fire,  "If  he 
were  living,  your  highness  would  not  be  here." 

There  are  two  more  very  interesting  centers  in  Abo 
of  which  I  must  tell  you.  One  is  the  market  place,  and 
the  other  the  ancient  cathedral.  In  the  market  place 
one  can  learn  what  people  are  to-day;  in  the  cathedral 
one  can  learn  from  the  monuments  and  the  inscriptions 
something  of  what  they  were  seven  hundred  years  ago. 

These  open  markets  in  the  central  square  of  most 
European  cities  are  a  great  institution,  and  if  Americans 
really  want  to  reduce  the  cost  of  living,  about  which  we 
all  talk  so  much  and  so  vehemently,  they  cannot  do 
better  than  to  estabhsh  such  a  country  market  in  every 
considerable  town  throughout  the  Union. 

To  the  market  place  in  the  center  of  Abo  come  the 
farmers  and  their  wives  from  all  the  surrounding  country, 
some  with  large  loads  and  some  with  little  loads,  but  all 
ready  to  sell  to  any  customer  an  infinitesimal  quantity 
of  their  produce  for  an  infinitesimal  price.  You  can 
buy  a  single  egg,  or  one  carrot,  or  three  or  four  potatoes, 
or  a  pat  of  butter  that  would  not  weigh  an  eighth  of  a 
poimd,  and  you  pay  only  what  a  single  carrot  is  worth, 
or  the  price  of  an  eighth  of  a  pound  of  butter. 


Copyright  by  Vndmcond  Jr  UndcnvooiL  X ■  V 

Interior  of  a  Finnish  Cottage. 


SWEDEN   AND   FINLAND  137 

The  lady  of  the  house,  even  if  she  be  a  lady  of  high 
degree,  does  not  consider  it  beneath  her  dignity  to  go 
to  market  herself,  though  she  may  often  send  her  maid, 
or  take  her  along  to  carry  the  market  basket.  In  this 
sort  of  marketing  you  do  not  have  to  pay  two  or  three 
middlemen's  profits,  nor  do  you  have  to  pay  your  grocer 
or  butcher  for  the  salary  of  several  high-priced  attend- 
ants and  for  an  automobile,  or  a  two-horse  team  to 
deliver  the  goods. 

The  most  curious  thing  I  saw  in  the  Abo  market  was 
the  bread,  which  was  being  peddled  by  many  an  old 
woman  from  the  back  of  her  cart.  The  cheaper  kinds 
are  made  of  rye  meal,  and  are  as  hard  as  the  nether  mill- 
stone. The  loaves  are  flat  and  about  the  size  of  a  dinner 
plate,  with  a  large  round  hole  in  the  middle.  They 
would  make  admirable  quoits,  which  you  know  is  my 
favorite  game,  and  if  my  Finnish  friends  would  not 
have  considered  it  altogether  too  frivolous  I  should  have 
bought  some  of  these  loaves  and  inaugurated  a  quoit 
tournament  on  the  spot. 

In  some  places  the  bread  is  baked  only  once  in  six 
months,  and  the  older  the  bread  the  harder  to  masticate. 

Some  edibles  are  "not  as  nahsty  as  they  look,"  as  our 
English  friends  say  of  certain  of  our  American  dishes, 
but  to  the  uninitiated  this  Finnish  black  bread  is  quite 
as  nasty  as  it  looks,  for  it  is  sour  as  well  as  hard,  and  in 
the  back  districts,  when  harvests  are  poor,  chopped  straw 
and  bark  are  mixed  with  the  meal. 

I  would  not  have  you  imagine,  however,  for  a 
moment,  that  in  the  well-to-do  families,   or  in   the 


138        THE  CHARM   OF  SCANDINAVIA 

comfortable  hotels  and  restaurants,  we  are  reduced 
to  such  fare  as  this.  In  fact,  I  know  of  no 
country  in  the  world,  unless  it  be  Sweden,  where 
food  is  so  abundant,  so  varied,  and  so  deliciously 
cooked. 

As  I  wandered  in  and  out  among  the  stalls  of  meat 
and  vegetables  and  bread  and  cheese,  woolen  stockings 
and  aprons,  and  butter  and  sausages,  where  one  could 
find  almost  anything  he  might  want  to  eat  or  drink  or 
wear,  I  was  most  interested  in  the  faces  of  these  rugged, 
weather-beaten  peasants. 

Ernest  Young  has  well  described  the  character  of  the 
Finnish  people  when  he  says:  "Nature,  fate,  and  tradi- 
tion have  stamped  a  conamon  mark  on  the  Finnish  type 
of  character,  which,  indeed,  varies  considerably  in  the 
country,  but  is  easily  recognized  by  the  foreigner.  The 
general  traits  of  character  are  hardened,  patient,  passive 
strength;  resignation;  perseverance,  allied  to  a  certain 
obstinacy;  a  slow,  contemplative  way  of  thinking;  an 
unwillingness  to  become  angry  and  a  tendency,  when 
anger  has  been  aroused,  to  indulge  in  unmeasured  wrath; 
coolness  in  deadly  peril,  but  caution  afterwards;  .  .  . 
adherence  to  the  old  and  well  known;  attention  to  duty; 
a  law-abiding  habit  of  mind;  love  of  Hberty,  hospitality, 
honesty;  a  predilection  for  religious  meditation,  reveal- 
ing itself  in  true  piety,  which,  however,  is  apt  to  have  too 
much  respect  for  the  mere  letter." 

My  own  briefer  acquaintance  with  the  Finns  has  con- 
firmed Mr.  Young's  study  of  their  traits  of  character, 
and  I  could  imagine  that  even  in  the  market  place,  as  I 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  139 

walked  back  and  forth,  I  could  discover  in  the  faces  many 
of  these  admirable  traits. 

When  one  meets  the  upper,  I  will  not  say  better  classes, 
one  is  sure  to  be  charmed  with  his  Finnish  friends. 
Their  abundant  hospitaUty,  which  always  presses  upon 
us  two  cups  of  coffee  (deHcious  coffee  at  that)  when  you 
really  only  want  one;  their  deferential  courtesy,  shown 
not  only  in  words,but  in  a  multitude  of  kind  and  thought- 
fid  actions;  their  intelligence;  their  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  great  world  outside  their  own  boundaries;  their 
pleasing  vivacity  (for  in  this  respect  they  differ  from  the 
quiet  stolidness  of  the  less  educated  peasantry)  all  these 
qualities  combine  to  make  them  the  most  charming  of 
hosts  and  companions. 

The  cathedral  of  Abo  stands  not  far  from  the  market 
place,  across  the  little  river  that  runs  through  the  town, 
and  on  a  sightly  eminence  of  its  own.  It  was  begun  in 
1229,  and  was  not  finished  until  the  year  1400.  How 
patient  these  old  builders  were!  They  did  not  run  up 
their  jerry-built  houses  and  churches  in  a  month,  but 
when  they  were  built  they  stood  for  centuries. 

This  cathedral  is  of  purely  Gothic  architecture,  much 
like  the  cathedral  in  Upsala,  and  it  dates  from  about 
the  same  period.  It  has  not  been  renovated  out  of  all 
resemblance  to  its  original  self,  however,  like  the  Upsala 
dome,  and  on  that  account  is  more  interesting,  in 
my  opinion.  The  lofty  brick  walls  are  scarred  by 
the  storms  of  the  centuries  and  eaten  out  here  and 
there  by  the  tooth  of  time,  but  the  church  is  well 
preserved  in  spite  of  its  nearly  seven  hundred  years, 


I40        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

and  is  filled,  Sunday  after  Sunday,  with  a  throng  of 
honest  worshipers. 

The  mural  paintings  about  the  altar,  though  of 
modern  date,  are  well  worth  studying,  one  of  them, 
especially,  which  represents  the  first  baptism  in  Finland 
at  a  spot  very  near  to  Abo  by  Bishop  Henrik,  an  Eng- 
lish missionary,  who  in  1 157  undertook  the  perilous  task 
of  converting  the  heathen  Finns.  The  good  bishop  died 
in  Finland,  and  was  buried  in  this  old  church,  where  his 
bones  rested  in  peace  until  1720,  when  the  Russians, 
for  some  unexplained  reason,  dug  them  up  and  carried 
them  off.  No  man  in  these  days  knows  his  sepulchre. 
In  some  of  the  side  chapels  are  buried  heroes  of  the 
Thirty  Years*  War,  famous  generals  —  whose  suits  of 
armor,  scarred  and  dented  by  the  enemy's  bullets,  still 
stand  beside  their  tombs. 

The  most  famous  tomb  of  all  in  the  old  Dom  Church 
is  that  of  Queen  Katherine  of  Sweden,  wife  of  Eric  XIV, 
the  oldest  son  of  Gustavus  Vasa.  Eric  had  a  checkered 
career,  both  poHtically  and  matrimonially.  He  was 
finally  deposed  from  the  throne,  but  while  he  occupied 
it  his  hand  had  been  refused  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  by 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  and  by  two  German  princesses. 
He  seems  to  have  been  very  cosmopolitan  in  his  love 
affairs,  wooing  Protestant  and  Catholic,  Anglo-Saxon 
and  Teuton  with  equal  avidity.  At  length,  having  ap- 
parently no  luck  in  court  circles,  he  turned  to  a  beauti- 
ful girl  among  his  own  people,  and  married  a  peasant's 
daughter  named  Karin  (or  Katherine)  Mansdotter.  The 
following  is  the  story  which  one  often  hears  in  Finland: 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  141 

"One  day  King  Eric  was  strolling  through  the  market 
place  at  Stockholm,  when  his  attention  was  attracted 
by  a  singularly  fair  and  graceful  child,  the  daughter  of 
a  common  soldier,  who  was  selHng  nuts.  He  sent  her  to 
his  palace  to  be  educated,  and  when  she  was  old  enough 
he  asked  her  to  marry  him.  All  kinds  of  objections  were 
raised  by  his  nobles  and  his  relatives,  and  accusations  of 
witchcraft  were  made  against  Karin,  but  the  wild  and 
passionate  monarch  took  his  way  and  married  the  little 
nut-seller.  Then  a  brother  prince,  who  felt  deeply  the 
disgrace  that  had  been  brought  upon  the  royal  order  by 
this  unseemly  match,  sent  Eric  a  present  of  a  hand- 
some cloak  in  the  back  of  which  was  sewed  a  patch 
of  rough,  homespun  cloth.  Eric  accepted  the  gift, 
had  the  patch  of  homespun  embroidered  with  gold 
and  studded  with  jewels  until  it  was  the  most  bril- 
liant and  valuable  part  of  the  garment,  and  then  re- 
turned it  to  the  donor."  ^ 

The  peasant  queen  well  repaid  his  love  and  devotion. 
She  was  buried  in  Abo  Cathedral,  where  her  great  black 
marble  sarcophagus  reminds  every  visitor  of  the  little 
nut-seller  who  became  a  queen  and  who  showed  her 
queenly  quaHties  in  adversity  and  exile.  A  stained-glass 
window  in  the  cathedral  shows  her  dressed  in  white 
robes,  with  a  crown  upon  her  head,  stepping  down  from 
her  throne  on  the  arm  of  a  Finnish  page. 

The  country  round  about  Abo  is,  for  Finland,  fertile 
and  productive,  and  in  this  region  is  made  much  of  the 
delicious  butter  that  is  sent  to  England,  and  often  much 
1  Ernest  Young:  Finland. 


142        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

farther  afield,  but  which  on  its  way  through  Denmark 
often  gets  labeled  ** Danish  butter." 

It  is  interesting  for  those  who  butter  their  bread  with 
the  Finnish  product  to  know  that  in  the  many  steam 
creameries  "the  dairymaids  in  spotless  white  linen 
dresses  and  aprons  receive,  weigh,  and  sterilize  the  milk 
before  it  is  made  into  butter,  while  all  the  churning, 
scalding,  and  butter-packing  rooms  are  models  of  clean- 
liness." It  is  always  a  wonder  to  me  why  countries  that 
make  such  delicious  butter  seem  to  be  so  fond  of  mar- 
garine, for  everywhere  on  the  railway  stations,  in  the 
tramcars  and  in  the  newspapers  in  Scandinavia  one 
sees  "Pellerin's  Margarine"  advertised.  But  there  are 
some  questions  which  polite  travelers  must  not  be  too 
inquisitive  about,  and  this  is  one  of  them. 

Butter  would  naturally  lead  us  to  cows  (unless  the 
suspicions  excited  by  these  advertisements  turn  us  aside), 
and  cows  lead  into  the  country,  but  I  have  not  room  in 
this  letter  to  tell  you  of  country  life  in  Finland,  a  fascinat- 
ing theme,  which  must  be  reserved  for  another  letter. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


FOURTEENTH  LETTER 

Wherein  something  is  told  of  the  charming  lakes  of  Finland  and 
the  canals  that  link  them  together;  of  the  "  Kalevala,"  the  great 
Finnish  epic;  of  the  Finnish  farmhouse,  without  and  within;  of 
the  inevitable  bathhouse;  of  a  melancholy  Finnish  wedding 
and  the  more  cheerful  Finnish  funeral. 

In  Finnish  Lakeland,  July  lo. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

If  you  will  study  for  a  moment  your  Universal  Atlas 
you  will  see  that  "Lakeland"  is  a  most  appropriate 
name  for  Finland,  for,  if  the  land  in  your  atlas  is  rep- 
resented as  white  and  the  water  as  blue,  you  will  find 
Finland  more  than  a  quarter  blue.  In  the  southern 
and  most  populous  part  of  the  peninsula  there  is  more 
lake  than  land  in  many  sections. 

The  country  has  been  called,  poetically,  the  "Land 
of  a  Thousand  Lakes,"  but  this  title  has  "the  power  of 
an  imderstatement."  To  call  it  the  "Land  of  Ten 
Thousand  Lakes"  would  still  be  below  the  truth.  Why 
could  not  the  geographers,  while  they  were  about  it, 
have  given  this  romantic  country  a  more  romantic 
name?  "Finland"  or  Fen-land,  as  the  word  means, 
suggests  bogs  and  swamps  and  impassable  morasses. 
The  name  "Suomi,"  by  which  the  Finns  designate  their 
beloved  coimtry,  is  no  better  in  its  impHcations,  for 
that,  too,  means  "Swamp-land." 

However,  since  we  cannot  change  the  name  we  must 


144        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

take  out  of  it  all  suggestions  of  miasmatic  swamps  and 
read  into  it  suggestions  of  sparkling  waters,  cold  and 
limpid;  of  birch-bordered  lakes,  studded  with  emerald 
islands;  of  quiet  thoroughfares  of  water  that  lead  from 
one  lovely  piece  of  water  to  another;  a  country  where 
you  can  journey  for  three  days  through  a  constant  suc- 
cession of  beautiful  lakes  without  retracing  your  steps. 

Man  has  assisted  nature  in  making  this  waterway, 
and  it  is  especially  interesting  to  Americans  to  know 
that  the  great  Saima  Canal,  which  links  together  the 
longest  stretch  of  lakes,  was  built  by  Nils  Ericsson,  the 
brother  of  the  immortal  engineer  who  built  the  Monitory 
and  who  invented  the  screw  which  to-day  drives  every 
ship  across  the  Atlantic. 

None  need  ask  for  a  more  delightful  trip  than  on 
these  lake-linked  canals,  where  one  is  continually  pass- 
ing from  one  lovely  sheet  of  water  to  another,  which 
now  expand  into  a  little  wave-lashed  sea,  now  narrow 
to  the  dimensions  of  a  river.  Again  our  boat  twists 
around  a  granite  headland,  stern  and  precipitous;  then 
skirts  a  tree-clad  shore,  or  a  meadow  spangled  with 
flowers  of  many  colors,  and  again  threads  a  narrow, 
tortuous  passage  for  a  mile  or  two,  or  is  hoisted  by  a 
convenient  lock  to  a  higher  level  and  another  equally 
beautiful  lake.  The  scenery  is  wilder  but  no  less  beau- 
tiful than  in  Swedish  lakeland,  which  I  have  before 
described. 

Though  our  vessel  is  driven  by  steam  and  not  by 
wind,  one  can  appreciate  the  lines  of  the  ancient  Finnish 
poet  who  wrote: 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  145 

"Pleasant  'tis  in  boat  on  water, 
Swaying  as  the  boat  glides  onward, 
Gliding  o'er  the  sparkling  water, 
Driving  o'er  its  shiny  surface, 
While  the  wind  the  boat  is  rocking, 
And  the  waves  drive  on  the  vessel. 
While  the  west-wind  rocks  it  gently. 
And  the  south-wind  drives  it  onward.'* 

What  poem  do  these  lines  remind  you  of,  Judicia?  I 
know  that  you  will  promptly  respond  Hiawatha.  But 
the  Finns  would  put  it  the  other  way  about,  and  tell  us 
that  Hiawatha  reminded  them  of  the  Kalevala,  and  they 
would  be  right,  for  Longfellow  learned  this  meter  from 
a  German  translation  of  Kalevala,  a  meter  in  which  all 
varieties  of  Finnish  verse  are  written.  Kalevala  means 
the  "Land  of  Heroes,"  and  is  a  long  poem  describ- 
ing every  phase  of  Finnish  life,  animate  and  inani- 
mate. It  is  a  collection  of  the  folk  lore  and  ancient 
runes  of  the  people,  gathered  together  with  infinite 
pains  and  put  into  modern  rhyme  and  meter  by  Elias 
Lonnrot,  a  poor  country  doctor,  who  spent  all  his  life 
in  an  inland  village  but  yet  made  the  greatest  of  all 
contributions  to  Finnish  Hterature.  We  must  take 
the  Kalevala  along  with  us  as  we  travel  through  Fin- 
nish lakeland. 

This  unknown  old  poet  of  the  folk  songs,  who  wrote 
before  the  recorded  history  of  Finland  began,  serves  as 
a  pretty  good  botanical  guide  to  the  trees  and  shrubs 
along  the  banks  of  this  great  waterway  when  he  tells  us 
that  Sampsa,  the  good  and  all-powerful  genius  of  the 
older  time,  planted  the  trees  which  delight  us  in  these 
later  days. 


146        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

"On  the  hills  he  sowed  the  pine-trees, 
On  the  knolls  he  sowed  the  fir-trees, 
And  in  sandy  places  heather; 
Leafy  saplings  in  the  valley. 
In  the  dales  he  sowed  the  birch-trees, 
In  the  loose  earth  sowed  the  alders, 
Where  the  ground  was  damp,  the  cherries, 
Likewise  in  the  marshes,  sallows. 
Rowan-trees  in  holy  places, 
Willows  in  the  fenny  regions, 
Juniper  in  stony  districts, 
Oaks  upon  the  banks  of  rivers." 

When  we  think  of  the  way  in  which  a  noble  birch  tree 

is  often  stripped  and  scarified  by  the  boys  who  covet 

its  bark,  and  the  deer  that  love  its  leaves,  and  the 

winter  frosts  that  make  its  gaunt  boughs  shiver  in  the 

cold  winds,  what  can  be  prettier  than  the  "Birch  Tree's 

Lament,"  as  described  in  this  ancient  poem: 

"Often  unto  me  defenceless, 
Oft  to  me  unhappy  creature, 
In  the  short  spring  come  the  children. 
Quickly  to  the  spot  they  hurry, 
And  with  sharpened  knives  they  score  me, 
Draw  my  sap  from  out  my  body. 
Strip  from  me  my  white  bark-girdle. 
Cups  and  plates  therefrom  constructing, 
Baskets  too  for  holding  berries." 


"And  the  wind  brought  ills  upon  me. 
And  the  frost  brought  bitter  sorrows, 
Tore  the  wind  the  green  cloak  from  me, 
Frost  my  pretty  dress  tore  off  me, 
Thus  am  I  of  all  the  poorest. 
And  a  most  unhappy  birch-tree, 
Standing  stripped  of  all  my  clothing. 
As  a  naked  trunk  I  stand  here, 
And  in  cold  I  shake  and  tremble. 
And  in  frost  I  stand  lamenting." 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  147 

In  the  course  of  our  lake  journey  we  pass  countless 
farmhouses,  all  of  which  have  common  characteristics. 
Many  are  painted  red  and  make  vivid  spots  of  color 
on  the  landscape,  either  in  the  midst  of  the  green  of 
summer  or  the  white  of  winter.  One  large  corner  of 
the  living  room  is  devoted  to  a  huge  fireplace,  in  which 
great  logs  glow  and  cheerily  crackle  throughout  the 
long,  cold  winter.  On  the  rafters  overhead  dried  vege- 
tables are  stnmg  in  festoons,  or  hoes,  rakes,  and  fish- 
ing tackle  adorn  the  ceiHng. 

The  one  piece  of  furniture  of  distinction  and  honor 
is  the  long  sofa  which  graces  one  side  of  the  room. 
What  the  throne  is  to  the  king's  palace,  the  sofa  is  to 
the  peasant's  home.  Says  Paul  Wainemann  in  his 
Summer  Tour  in  Finland:  "The  right-hand  corner  of 
the  sofa  is  the  Holy  of  HoHes  and  is  always  reserved  for 
the  governor's  wife,  if  she  graces  an  assembly  with  her 
presence.  Beside  her  would  sit  the  wife  of  the  official 
next  highest  in  rank.  An  immarried  lady  under  no 
provocation  would  be  tempted  to  seat  herself  on  the 
sofa,  it  being  considered  the  height  of  indecorum  to  do 
so,  as  well  as  being  a  sure  and  certain  sign  that  she 
would  remain  a  spinster  to  the  end  of  her  days.  Need- 
less to  say,  a  mere  man  would  be  hounded  out  of  the 
room  if  he  even  attempted  to  commit  such  an  appalling 
breach  of  etiquette." 

I  must  say  that  in  the  last  respect,  though  a  mere 
man  myself,  my  experience  has  been  different  from  that 
of  Mr.  Wainemann,  for  I  have  frequently  been  urged 
and  sometimes  almost  compelled  by  my  Finnish  host- 


148        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

esses  to  take  the  honored  seat  on  the  sofa,  a  seat  which 
I  could  not  refuse  without  an  undue  struggle  to  show 
humility  and  politeness. 

An  interesting  and  admirable  addition  to  almost 
every  Finnish  home  in  the  country  is  the  bathhouse, 
which  is  usually  built  separate  from  the  dwelling  house. 
The  Finns  and  the  Japanese  are  the  only  two  peoples 
whom  I  know  who  realize  the  virtue  of  a  hot  bath  and 
almost  daily  indulge  in  it.  The  EngHshman  enjoys  his 
cold  tub,  and  carries  his  absurd  bathtub  with  him, 
whether  he  is  going  to  Timbuctoo  or  to  the  next  town 
in  his  own  country.  The  modern  American  can  hardly 
exist  in  a  house  that  does  not  contain  one  or  more  set 
bathtubs  with  hot  and  cold  water,  but  the  Finn  and  the 
Jap  are  the  only  peoples  who  beheve  in  the  hottest  kind 
of  a  hot  bath,  though  the  Russians  and  Turks  indulge 
in  them  occasionally. 

In  the  country  bathhouse  unhewn  pine  logs  often 
form  the  walls.  A  big,  inclosed  fireplace  or  stove  of 
rough  stones  is  built  in  the  middle  or  on  one  side.  When 
the  stones  are  sizzling  hot,  an  abundance  of  water  is 
poured  upon  them,  and  in  the  steam,  which  seems 
almost  scalding,  the  Finn  hes  down  and  enjoys  the  moist 
relaxation  to  his  heart's  content.  When  he  has  enjoyed 
this  sufficiently,  he  beats  himself  or  his  next  neighbor 
with  bunches  of  fragrant  birch  twigs,  while  his  neighbor 
returns  the  favor.  When  he  has  been  sufficiently  soaped 
and  rubbed  and  flogged  with  twigs,  he  jumps  into  the 
cold  lake,  if  it  be  summertime,  or  rolls  in  the  snow  in 
winter.    I  have  never  seen  it  myself,  but  I  am  told  on 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  149 

good  authority  that  in  the  evening  it  is  no  uncommon 
sight  in  the  country  to  see  a  row  of  naked  men  sitting 
outside  the  house,  having  just  completed  their  cold 
plunge. 

That  this  Finnish  bath  is  an  immemorial  custom  is 
shown  by  the  fact  that  in  one  of  the  folk  songs  of  the 
Kalevala,  Anniki,  the  little  sister  of  Ilmarinen,  "the 
great  primeval  craftsman/^  says  to  him: 

"Now  the  bath-room's  filled  with  vapor, 
And  the  vapor-bath  I  've  heated, 
And  have  steeped  the  bath-whisks  nicely. 
Choosing  out  the  best  among  them. 
Bathe,  O  Brother,  at  your  pleasure. 
Pouring  water  as  you  need  it, 
Wash  your  head  to  flaxen  color. 
Till  your  eyes  shine  out  like  snow-flakes." 

In  these  pleasant  farmhouses  by  which  we  glide  so 
rapidly  in  our  little  steamer  how  many  human  comedies 
and  tragedies  must  have  been  enacted;  how  many  joys 
and  sorrows  have  found  place  beneath  these  roofs? 
Births  and  betrothals,  weddings  and  funerals,  each  has 
brought  as  much  ecstasy  or  grief  as  the  same  events 
bring  to  the  noble  chateau  or  lordly  palace. 

You  remember,  Judicia,  how  we  have  sometimes  been 
amused  at  the  profound  melancholy  which  occasionally 
invests  a  wedding  at  home.  Do  you  remember  how  we 
have  seen  the  weeping  mother  of  the  bride  or  groom 
sobbing  out  her  congratulations,  and  how  sometimes 
the  whole  assembly  was  almost  dissolved  in  tears. 

Well,  in  the  olden  times  the  Finns  carried  the  mourn- 
ful wedding  to  the  nth.  degree  of  melancholy.    As  late 


I50        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

as  1899  a  writer  in  a  popular  magazine,  speaking  of  a 
Russian  wedding  just  across  the  Finnish  border,  says: 
"Such  a  thing  as  a  radiant  bride  is  unknown  in  those 
regions,  and  the  chief  idea  seems  to  be  to  make  as  great 
a  show  of  grief  as  possible,  and  to  make  the  function  as 
dismal  as  a  funeral." 

A  weeping  wedding  is  not  now  known  in  Finland 
except  in  the  remotest  districts,  but  I  am  told  that  not 
long  ago  a  company  of  professional  wedding  weepers 
were  brought  to  Helsingfors  from  the  far  north  to  show 
how  they  could  enUven  marriage  festivities  and  to  re- 
mind a  modem  bride  of  the  customs  of  long  ago. 

The  Kalevala,  that  thesaurus  of  rhythmical  informa- 
tion concerning  ancient  customs,  tells  us  what  was  said 
to  the  bride  before  she  left  for  her  new  home,  to  make 
her  thoroughly  appreciate  the  old  homstead,  and  also 
the  way  in  which  she  replied  to  the  jeremiad.  I  will 
quote  for  you  a  few  more  lines: 

"Hast  thou  never,  youthful  maiden, 
On  both  sides  surveyed  the  question, 
Looked  beyond  the  present  moment, 
When  the  bargain  was  concluded? 
All  thy  life  must  thou  be  weeping, 
And  for  many  years  lamenting, 
How  thou  left'st  thy  father's  household. 
And  thy  native  land  abandoned, 
From  beside  thy  tender  mother. 
From  the  home  of  her  who  bore  thee." 

And  the  lugubrious  maiden  replies, 

"Blackest  trouble  rests  upon  me, 
Black  as  coal  my  heart  within  me. 
Coal-black  trouble  weighs  upon  me." 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  151 

A  funeral  could  hardly  by  any  possibility  have  been 
more  solemn  in  the  ancient  times  than  a  wedding.  In- 
deed often  it  must  have  been  a  more  joyous  occasion, 
for  I  am  told  that  in  some  sections,  even  to  this  day, 
after  the  relatives  have  kissed  the  corpse,  all  the  guests 
present  shake  him  by  the  hand,  and  that  the  friends 
usually  speak  of  him  not  as  dead,  but  as  one  "whom  it 
hath  pleased  God  to  take." 

You  can  see  what  a  delightful  experience  a  voyage 
through  lakeland  must  be,  in  the  midst  of  such  charm- 
ing and  ever-changing  scenery,  the  human  interest  con- 
stantly kept  alive,  not  only  by  the  abundant  life  along 
the  shore,  but  by  the  imforgotten  customs  of  the  past 
which  the  Kalevala  has  so  beautifully  preserved  for  us. 

There  are  other  and  more  thrilling  voyages  through 
the  ''Land  of  a  Thousand  Lakes"  than  the  one  I  have 
taken  you  upon  to-day.  The  trip,  for  instance,  down 
the  rapids  of  Ulea,  which  is  made  every  day  of  the 
tourist  season  in  long,  narrow  rowboats,  under  the  care 
of  skillful  licensed  pilots.  The  canoe  trip  from  Moose- 
head  Lake  in  Maine  to  the  St.  John  River  in  New 
Brunswick  through  the  AUegash  waters  is  not  unlike 
this  journey  down  the  Ulei  River,  though  the  passage 
of  the  many  rapids  is  usually  less  thrilling.  But  in  Fin- 
land, as  in  Maine,  it  takes  a  cool  and  skillful  hand  to 
pilot  the  frail  craft  down  these  ripping,  roaring  rapids. 
Now  it  looks  as  though  the  way  was  blocked  up  by  a 
jutting  headland;  again  it  seems  as  if  our  craft  would 
be  dashed  to  pieces  against  a  gigantic  boulder  in  mid- 
stream, but  always  in  the  Ulea,  as  in  the  Allegash,  the 


152        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

turn  of  a  paddle  avoids  the  threatened  danger,  and  our 
boat  floats  out  into  smooth  waters  to  the  peaceful 
thoroughfare  below  the  rapids. 

But  it  is  hopeless  to  attempt  to  describe  aU  the  inter- 
esting matters  that  cluster  around  country  Hfe  in  Fin- 
land. Here  is  a  country  as  big  as  all  Great  Britain, 
with  the  Low  Countries  across  the  Channel  thrown  in. 
Who  would  have  the  nerve  to  attempt  to  describe  coun- 
try Hfe  in  Belgium,  Holland,  Ireland,  Scotland,  and 
England  in  one  letter?  The  very  magnitude  of  the  task 
must  be  my  excuse  for  the  fragmentary  incompleteness 
of  my  attempt. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


FIFTEENTH  LETTER 

Which  has  to  do  with  Tammerfors,  the  "  Manchester  "  of  Finland,  and 
the  railway  which  takes  one  thither;  its  remarkable  church;  the 
Wounded  Angel  and  the  Garden  of  Death;  also  something  about 
the  church  boats  of  the  coimtry  districts,  and  the  strange  notice 
given  from  the  pulpit. 

Tammerfors,  Finland,  July  15. 

My  dear  Judicia, 

Tammerfors  is  an  inland  city  on  the  edge  of  the  great 
lake  region  of  which  I  wrote  you  in  my  last  letter.  I  had 
to  come  here  by  rail,  and  perhaps  you  will  be  interested 
to  know  something  about  the  railways  of  Finland.  I 
must  confess  that  as  means  of  communication  they  can- 
not rival  the  steamers  on  the  lakes  and  canals,  but,  as 
in  most  other  countries,  they  are  a  very  necessary  evil, 
and,  since  in  Finland  they  run  on  well-ballasted  roads 
for  the  most  part  and  burn  fragrant  wood  instead  of 
ill-smelUng  coal,  their  nuisance  as  smoke  and  dust  pro- 
ducers is  reduced  to  a  minimum. 

They  are  practically  all  owned  by  the  State,  and  as  the 
State  is  in  no  hurry  to  get  its  inhabitants  from  one  place 
to  another,  or  to  get  them  out  of  the  country ,  should  they 
be  bound  to  emigrate,  the  average  rate  of  speed  is  not 
more  than  fifteen  miles  an  hour.  Even  the  express 
trains  between  Helsingfors  and  St.  Petersburg  are  no 
cannon  balls  or  "  Flying  Yankees,"  for  a  mile  in  three 


154        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

minutes  and  ten  seconds  is  the  best  they  attempt  to  do 
for  the  whole  journey. 

Still  if  you  have  time  enough  at  your  disposal  you 
can  travel  a  surprisingly  long  distance  in  Finland  for  a 
surprisingly  small  amount  of  money.  The  third-class 
fares  (and  the  third  class  is  patronized  by  the  great 
majority  of  people)  costs  less  than  a  cent  a  mile,  and 
you  can  go  clear  around  the  east  coast  of  the  Gulf  of 
Bothnia  to  its  northern  tip,  if  you  are  so  disposed,  and 
at  Haparanda  can  almost  shake  hands  with  our  Swedish 
friends,  whom  I  visited  in  Lulei  a  few  months  ago. 

I  would  not  advise  you  to  take  a  third-class  car  if  you 
intend  to  take  a  long  journey  in  Finland,  for  the  hard, 
yellow,  wooden  seats  get  decidedly  tiresome  before  you 
have  jolted  over  a  hundred  miles  of  Finnish  scenery. 
The  second-class  cars  are  entirely  comfortable  and  even 
luxurious  on  the  principal  lines,  and  you  can  settle  down 
happily  in  your  plush,  springy  comfort,  usually  having  a 
whole  seat  to  yourself. 

The  first-class  acconmaodations,  as  in  Sweden,  are 
only  distinguished  from  the  second  by  the  placard  on  the 
door  or  the  window  and  by  your  own  inner  consciousness 
that  you  have  paid  considerably  more  than  your  neigh- 
bors for  the  same  acconmaodations .  Most  of  the  cars 
are  more  like  our  American  cars  than  the  ordinary  Euro- 
pean coaches,  with  an  aisle  down  the  middle  and  seats 
on  either  side,  though  the  same  car  may  be  divided  into 
two  or  three  compartments  with  doors  between. 

The  stations  are  modest,  wooden  buildings,  and,  except 
for  the  mmierous  signs  of  margarine,  beer,  and  other  co* 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  155 

mestibles  with  which  they  are  decorated,  I  could  readily 
mistake  them  for  railway  stations  in  northern  New 
Hampshire  or  western  Dakota. 

One  could  never,  however,  mistake  a  Finnish  railway 
lestaurant  for  a  similar  institution  in  America.  Here 
one  sees  no  quick-lunch  counter,  no  aged  sandwiches 
made  the  day  before  yesterday,  no  greasy  doughnuts  or 
any  impossible  concoction  misnamed  "coffee."  Here 
everything  is  neat,  nice,  and  orderly.  The  coffee  is 
sure  to  be  delicious,  for  in  the  meanest  Finnish  hut, 
even  in  far  Lapland,  the  proprietor  would  be  ashamed  to 
give  you  anything  but  a  steaming  and  fragrant  cup  of 
their  national  beverage.  With  the  coffee,  and  for  the 
same  price,  you  get  an  unlimited  supply  of  little  cakes 
or  sweetbread,  while  if  you  want  a  full  dinner  of  three 
or  four  courses,  superbly  cooked  and  elegantly  served, 
it  will  cost  you  only  two  and  a  half  Finnish  marks,  or 
about  fifty  cents,  for  a  Finnish  mark  differs  from  a  Ger- 
man mark  in  being  of  the  same  value  as  a  franc. 

Outside  the  station,  in  rows  along  the  platform,  I  often 
see  old  women  with  baskets  of  apples  or  plates  of  fried 
meat  or  cakes,  or  loaves  of  coarse  bread  and  bottles  of 
milk,  just  as  we  saw  them  in  that  long  journey  across 
Siberia  in  the  early  days  of  the  Trans-Siberian  Railway. 
You  remember  how  eagerly  we  used  to  race  for  the  bread 
and  milk  stalls  to  get  our  supply  before  the  little  tables 
were  swept  bare  by  the  hungry  travelers?  In  Finland 
one  does  not  have  to  be  a  sprinter  in  order  to  get  his 
share  of  the  food,  for  there  is  always  an  abundant  supply 
at  the  restaurants.     The  old  women  on  the  outside,  be- 


156        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

cause  of  the  cheapness  of  their  wares,  are  largely  patro- 
nized by  the  poorer  people. 

The  notices  in  the  stations  and  in  the  cars  about  smok- 
ing, spitting,  putting  your  head  out  of  the  window, 
standing  on  the  platform,  and  so  on,  are  printed  in  six 
languages:  Finnish,  Swedish,  Russian,  German,  French, 
and  English,  and  the  maps  and  diagrams  and  time-tables 
are  so  full  of  helpful  information  that  no  wayfaring  man 
need  go  astray. 

In  one  respect  the  Finnish  railways  dififer  from  the 
Swedish,  though  they  are  such  near  neighbors.  The 
Swedish  trains  gUde  away  like  the  Arab  when  he  has 
folded  his  tents,  without  making  any  fuss  about  it.  No 
bell  is  rung,  no  whistle  blown,  no  word  of  command 
given.  The  station  master  simply  waves  his  hand  when 
the  exact  second  for  departure  has  come,  and  unless  you 
keep  your  eyes  wide  open,  and  your  watch  exactly  with 
railway  time,  you  are  likely  to  see  the  rear  car  of  the 
train  vanishing  in  the  distance  while  you  make  frantic 
but  imavailing  attempts  to  catch  it.  In  Finland,  on  the 
contrary,  there  is  no  danger  of  your  being  left,  for  first 
the  station  bell  rings,  then  it  rings  again,  then  the  con- 
ductor blows  his  whistle,  then  the  engineer  answers  him 
with  the  locomotive  whistle,  and  by  that  time,  every- 
thing being  good  and  ready,  the  train  will  slowly  get 
under  way. 

Tammerfors  might  well  be  called  "  Grand  Rapids,"  a 
name  indeed  which  is  not  far  from  its  Finnish  significance, 
for  through  the  center  of  the  city  rushes  a  tremendous 
stream  of  water,  over  rapids  that  make  it  swirl  and  eddy 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  157 

and  shoot  its  spray  high  in  the  air.  This  river  Tarn 
affords  a  splendid  water  power  for  the  principal  manu- 
facturing city  in  Finland,  and  is  lined  with  great  cotton 
and  woolen  mills  and  paper  factories,  which  rightly  give 
the  city  the  nickname,  even  among  its  own  inhabitants, 
of  the  "Manchester''  of  Finland. 

In  size,  however,  the  Finnish  Manchester  is  nearer 
the  New  Hampshire  than  the  English  Manchester,  and 
its  river  rushes  and  tumbles  through  the  city  much  as 
the  Merrimac  throws  itself  with  mighty  force  against 
the  water  wheels  of  the  New  England  city. 

But  neither  Manchester,  New  Hampshire,  nor  Man- 
chester, England,  can  boast  such  a  remarkable  church  as 
the  "Manchester"  of  Finland.  Indeed,  I  doubt  if  such 
a  church  can  be  found  in  any  one  of  the  five  continents. 
It  is  a  very  expensive  church,  built  of  soHd  granite,  with 
enormous  pillars  that  would  not  be  put  to  the  blush  by 
the  ruins  of  Baalbec,  or  the  ancient  temple  of  Sardis. 
In  this  church  a  great  Christian  Endeavor  meeting  was 
held  which  completely  filled  the  audience  room,  as  has 
been  the  case  in  the  other  cathedral  churches  of  Finland, 
and  I  must  say  that  it  was  rather  a  unique  experience  as 
I  spoke  to  the  hving  audience  to  see  also  a  painted  audi- 
ence of  naked  men  and  half-clothed  women  coming  out 
of  their  graves  forming  the  great  altar  piece,  represent- 
ing the  Resurrection  morning. 

Around  the  huge  gallery,  supported  by  enormous 
stone  pillars,  is  a  row  of  naked  boys  carrying  a  large 
garland  which  completely  surrounds  the  gallery.  This 
garland  is  supposed  to  signify  the  "Burden  of  Life," 


158        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

and  is  composed  of  roses  and  thoms.  Some  of  the  boys 
are  carrying  it  lightly,  and  others  are  staggering  under 
its  weight. 

In  other  parts  of  the  church  are  two  remarkable  fres- 
coes, one  representing  two  boys  carrying  a  wounded 
angel  on  a  kind  of  litter  between  them.  The  angel's 
drooping  wings,  spotted  with  blood,  and  her  sweet, 
patient  expression  contrast  strangely  with  the  rugged 
little  Finnish  boys  who  are  carrying  her.  One  of  them  has 
a  resentful  expression  on  his  face,  as  though  he  were 
deadly  tired  of  his  burden.  Did  the  artist  mean  to  tell 
us  that  every  boy  carries  an  angel  with  him,  though  he 
often  resents  her  presence  and  would  be  glad  to  get  rid 
of  her? 

The  other  mural  painting  represents  the  "Garden  of 
Death,"  and  shows  us  three  grinning  skeletons  with 
watering-pots  in  their  hands,  sprinkHng  flowers  of 
various  kinds  as  they  wander  through  their  garden. 
One  writer  calls  this  a  "perfectly  hideous  piece  of  sym- 
bohsm,"  but  it  did  not  so  strike  me.  Though  unpleasant 
in  some  of  its  features,  it  is  not  nearly  so  hideous  as  the 
pictures  of  the  Last  Judgment  depicted  by  many  of  the 
old  masters,  and  it  teaches  the  worth-while  lesson  that 
"life  evermore  is  fed  by  death." 

This  church  is  characteristic  of  the  new  and  audacious 
architecture  of  Finland.  Ernest  Young  well  describes 
it  when  he  says:  "Without  a  mass  of  photographs  it  is 
difficult  to  convey  to  the  reader  any  idea  of  the  curious 
character  of  this  modern  work.  One  man  calls  it  "hide- 
ous"; another   "lovely."    The  choice  of   the  epithet 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  159 

probably  depends  on  your  education,  your  prejudices, 
and  your  ability  to  seek  sympathetically  for  the  mean- 
ing of  the  builder.  It  falls  into  no  category  of  known 
style;  hence  if  you  be  but  of  the  schools  it  will  probably 
appal  you." 

"To  me,"  he  continues,  "it  is  an  intense  joy,  even 
when  it  is  ugKest  and  least  effective,  for  it  is  daring. 
It  is  only  a  man  of  courage  who  dares  to  do  the  things 
that  these  men  do.  It  is  full  of  the  spirit  of  youth,  and 
though  it  be  not  Gothic,  nor  Moorish,  nor  anything  but 
Finnish,  I  could  wander  all  day  amongst  the  houses 
and  streets  where  it  is  prevalent,  feeling  as  though  I 
were  once  more  in  the  presence  of  an  age  when  men  dared 
to  be  original  in  defiance  of  all  accepted  traditions." 

I  ought  to  tell  you,  perhaps,  before  I  get  through  with 
this  remarkable  church  that  there  was  strong  opposition, 
especially  on  the  part  of  the  clergy,  to  the  extreme  nudity 
of  the  decorations,  but  the  persistence  of  the  artists, 
and  the  pride  of  the  people  in  their  original  productions, 
prevailed  over  all  objections,  and  the  paintings  remain 
there,  naked  and  unashamed. 

Tammerfors,  or  the  Rapids  of  the  Tam,  affords  a  good 
point  of  departure  for  the  more  remote  interior  of  Fin- 
land, and  here  we  should  find  churches  and  churchgoers 
of  a  different  type  from  those  which  the  large  cities 
afford.  The  churches,  like  the  houses  of  the  people,  are  of 
wood,  and  some  of  them  are  enormous  buildings  in  which 
the  peasants  from  many  miles  around  gather  to  worship 
and  to  be  instructed  by  their  honored  pastors.  With 
some  families,  as  with  our  Puritan  ancestors,  Sunday 


i6o        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

begins  on  Saturday  afternoon.  This  is  perhaps  a  matter 
of  necessity  rather  than  of  conscience,  because  not  a 
few  live  at  such  a  distance  that  they  have  to  start  on 
Saturday  afternoon  in  order  to  get  to  church  in  season 
for  the  Sunday  service.  No  sight  in  Finland  is  more 
imique  than  the  great  "church  boats"  that  leave  the 
remote  villages  on  Saturday  evenings  for  a  journey 
through  the  long  summer  twiUght  to  the  distant  church. 
These  boats  sometimes  contain  twenty  or  thirty  wor- 
shipers, and  the  rhythm  of  the  splashing  oars  is  accen- 
tuated by  the  sweet  voices  of  the  maidens  as  they  sing 
the  psalms  and  hymns  of  ancient  Finland.  Practically 
all  the  people  are  Lutherans,  though  there  are  Free 
Church  Lutherans  and  State  Church  Lutherans,  and 
you  may  be  sure  that  Luther's  famous  hymn,  "A 
Mighty  Stronghold  is  our  God,"  often  resounds  along 
the  peaceful  waterways  and  is  echoed  from  the  pine-clad 
hills  as  the  "church  boat"  makes  its  way  to  the  sanctu- 
ary. In  these  days  the  "church  boat"  is  often  a  steamer 
of  considerable  size,  which  starts  early  Sunday  morning 
and  collects  three  or  four  hundred  worshipers  from  the 
different  hamlets  and  farms  within  its  circuit. 

If  we  should  attend  church  in  one  of  these  remote  dis- 
tricts in  the  winter  we  would  very  likely  hear  the  min- 
ister give  out  a  singular  notice  from  the  pulpit.  It 
would  not  be  concerning  a  "Ladies'  Sewing-circle,"  or 
a  "Men's  Club,"  or  a  "Turkey  Supper,"  or  a  "Straw- 
berry Festival,"  but,  strangest  of  all  strange  pulpit 
"intimations,"  as  our  Scotch  friends  would  call  it,  it 
would  relate  to  a  hear  hunt. 


SWEDEN  AND   FINLAND  i6i 

To  be  more  specific,  the  minister  would  announce  that 
a  certain  farmer  had  found  a  "ring,"  and  that  no  one 
must  trespass  upon  his  "ring."  This  would  mean  that 
a  certain  member  of  the  church  had  been  lucky  enough 
to  track  a  bear  to  its  lair,  and  that,  without  disturbing 
him,  he  had  drawn  a  wide  circle  around  him  in  the  snow. 
Henceforward  that  bear  is  his  property,  either  to  kill  or 
to  sell  to  some  sportsman  who  wants  the  excitement 
of  a  bear  hunt. 

Bruin  himself,  it  seems,  is  not  very  particular  about 
his  winter  quarters.  When  he  is  ready  for  his  winter^s 
nap  he  lies  down  and  lets  the  snow  cover  him  up  as  it 
will.  It  often  makes  a  large  heap  over  his  improvised 
bedroom,  and  his  breath,  escaping  like  steam  from  a 
hole  in  the  snow  which  it  has  melted,  often  reveals  his 
hiding  place  to  the  sharp-eyed  farmer,  who  is  always  on 
the  lookout  for  it. 

The  discoverer  rarely  disturbs  Bruin  himself,  but  he 
sends  word  to  the  Tourist  Association  of  Helsingfors 
that  he  has  a  "ring"  for  sale,  and  there  are  many  keen 
hunters,  some  of  whom  come  from  Russia  and  some 
from  England,  who  are  glad  to  pay  from  seventy-five 
to  eighty  dollars  for  the  ring.  When  the  huntsman 
reaches  the  bear's  winter  quarters,  the  dogs  and  the 
beaters  rout  out  the  bear,  who  usually  puts  up  a  very 
stiff  fight,  and  not  altogether  a  one-sided  one  before 
he  is  dispatched  by  the  hunter. 

I  must  say  it  seems  to  me  something  like  burglary,  if 
not  highway  robbery  and  murder,  to  drive  inoffensive 
Bruin  in  the  dead  of  his  long  winter  night  out  of  his 


i62        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

cozy  sleeping  apartment.  Especially  I  am  sorry  for  the 
mother  bear,  who  always  keeps  her  cubs  with  her  during 
the  long  night,  while  the  father  bear  keeps  a  bedroom 
of  his  own.  As  a  result  of  these  bear  hunts,  it  is  said 
that  "in  Viborg  and  other  towns  it  is  not  uncommon  to 
see  young  bears  which  have  been  caught  in  this  manner 
acting  as  playmates  for  the  children,  and  running  at 
large  in  the  gardens  and  on  the  hills." 

I  suppose  that  Aylmer  told  you  all  about  skiing  when 
he  wrote  you  of  his  winter  in  Norway,  and  I  will  simply 
remind  you,  and  Alymer,  too,  if  you  will  communicate 
the  fact  to  him,  that  the  "ski  is  a  Finnish  invention, 
and  was  known  here  many  years  before  it  was  introduced 
into  Norway."  So  that  fact  counts  at  least  one  point 
for  my  side  of  Scandinavia. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


SIXTEENTH  LETTER 

Deals  with  Helsingfors,  the  capital  of  the  Grand  Duchy,  and  its 
strongly  fortified  islands ;  with  Woman's  Suffrage  in  progressive 
Finland ;  with  universal  education ;  with  the  folk  schools  and  the 
extreme  attention  given  to  them;  with  the  university  and  its 
degrees;  with  the  literature  of  the  Finns  and  the  more  interest- 
ing Finn  himself. 

Helsingfors,  Finland,  July  20. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

Helsingfors  is  the  best  place  in  the  world  from  which 
to  write  you  my  last  letter  about  greater  Scandinavia, 
for  it  is  not  only  the  capital  and  chief  city  of  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  Finland,  but  it  is  the  best  point  of  departure 
from  the  country  for  one  whose  pleasant  tasks  in  these 
northern  lands  are  nearly  finished.  From  here  I  can  go 
by  rail  to  St.  Petersburg,  and  thence  to  any  other  desir- 
able spot  on  the  earth's  surface;  or  I  can  sail  to  Riga,  to 
Stockholm,  to  a  number  of  places  on  the  German  coast, 
or  to  Hull  in  England,  and,  with  only  one  change  of 
steamer,  can  get  back  to  our  best-loved  America. 

But  I  cannot  leave  Scandinavia  without  telling  you 
something  of  this  interesting  city,  the  center  not  only 
of  the  political  life  but  of  the  educational,  literary,  and 
artistic  Hfe  of  Finland. 

The  Russians  have  taken  pains  to  make  Helsingfors' 
strong,  strategic  position,  impregnable  from  the  military 
point  of  view.    The  entrance  to  the  inner  harbor  is  so 


i64        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

narrow  that  only  one  ship  at  a  time  can  pass  between 
the  frowning  rocks,  and  the  murderous  guns  of  the  forts 
are  so  mounted  that  they  can  be  turned  against  the  foe, 
whether  he  approach  by  land  or  sea. 

A  Httle  way  out  from  the  inner  harbor  is  a  scattered 
group  of  frowning,  rocky  islands  fortified  with  the 
latest  type  of  death-deaHng  cannon.  At  the  time  of 
the  Crimean  War  both  France  and  England  mustered 
their  fleets  to  take  one  of  these  islands,  but  found  it 
impossible.  To-day  it  would  be  a  still  more  difficult 
task. 

If  poverty  makes  strange  bedfellows,  international 
complications  and  alliances  make  still  stranger  chums. 
Here  are  the  bitter  enemies  of  sixty  years  ago  hobnob- 
bing together  in  these  days  of  the  Entente  cordiale. 
Republican  France,  constitutional  Britain,  and  auto- 
cratic, reactionary  Russia,  "as  thick  as  thieves"  (no 
opprobrious  implication  intended),  and  working  together 
with  all  the  wiles  and  all  the  might  of  diplomacy  to  off- 
set and  hold  in  check  the  Triple  Alliance. 

Speaking  of  politics  and  government,  I  would  mod- 
estly recommend  both  the  suffragettes  and  the  anti- 
suffragettes  of  England  to  study  the  experience  of 
Finland  in  regard  to  this  burning  subject.  Here  is  the 
only  European  country  that  totally  ignores  the  word 
"male"  in  its  suffrage  regulations.  Every  adult  has  a 
vote,  and,  as  fifty-three  per  cent  of  the  inhabitants  are 
women,  they  hold  the  much-dreaded  balance  of  power 
which  is  such  a  bugbear  to  the  "antis"  of  Great  Britain. 

Here  is  a  country  that  is  theoretically  ruled  by  women, 


o 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  165 

and  yet  there  has  been  no  tremendous  cataclysm  of  the 
forces  of  nature.  The  sun  rises  and  sets  in  Finland  just 
as  it  used  to  do.  People  buy  and  sell  and  get  gain,  fall 
in  love,  are  married  and  given  in  marriage,  die  and  are 
buried,  just  as  in  the  olden  days.  Theoretically  the 
women  could  tip  every  man  out  of  his  parliamentary 
seat  and  run  the  government  to  suit  themselves,  but, 
strange  to  say,  there  are  only  seventeen  women  in  the 
Finnish  Diet.  Less  than  one  tenth  of  all  the  members 
belong  to  the  terrible  window-smashing  sex,  and  one 
writer  says  of  these  seventeen:  "They  are  mostly  of 
middle  age,  grave,  and  even  portentously  solemn.  They 
are  apparently  proof  against  all  temptations  of  vanity. 
They  dress  with  Quakerish  simplicity  and  are  com- 
pletely absorbed  in  their  duties. '^ 

Whether  it  is  due  to  the  influence  of  woman  or  not, 
Finland  is  an  exceedingly  orderly  and  well-governed 
country,  and  it  would  be  ruled  still  better  did  not  the 
medieval  government  at  St.  Petersburg  veto  various 
measures  relating  to  education  and  morals  which  would 
be  for  the  welfare  of  the  country.  For  instance,  as  I 
told  you  before,  the  Diet  wants  a  larger  measure  of  the 
prohibition  of  intoxicants,  which  the  Czar  has  for- 
bidden. The  Diet  has  voted  for  compulsory  education, 
which  the  imperial  Romanoff,  "with  and  by  the  con- 
sent of  his  ministers,"  has  also  disallowed. 

Nevertheless,  in  spite  of  this  handicap  Finland  is  in 
many  respects  the  most  progressive  and  best  educated 
nation  in  Europe.  Let  the  woman  suffragists  get  what 
comfort  they  can  from  these  facts,  and  let  the  suffra- 


i66        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

gettes  remember  that  in  getting  "votes  for  women"  in 
Finland  not  a  single  bomb  was  exploded,  or  a  house 
burned  to  the  ground,  or  a  single  window  broken  by  a 
wild  and  whirling  female. 

Until  very  recently  there  have  been  four  estates  in 
the  Diet  of  Finland:  Nobles,  Clergy,  Burghers,  and 
Peasants.  In  the  last-named  house  Finland  was  en- 
tirely unique.  I  have  never  heard  of  another  nation 
that  had  a  "House  of  Peasants"  to  legislate  for  it,  but 
it  must  be  remembered  that  many  of  these  so-called 
peasants  are  very  substantial  farmers,  and  that  their 
power  in  a  country  like  Finland  is  paramount,  as  it 
ought  to  be. 

In  1906  the  four  estates  were  abolished,  and  now 
there  is  only  one  legislative  chamber,  where  representa- 
tives of  all  the  people  meet  together  to  legislate  for  the 
welfare  of  their  beloved  fatherland. 

You  may  have  thought  that  I  was  drawing  a  "long 
bow"  when  I  said  that  Finland  was  the  best  educated 
nation  in  the  world,  but  I  am  prepared  to  defend  the 
proposition.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  classical  or 
technical  education  for  the  few  has  been  carried  to  so 
high  a  point  as  in  Germany,  though  in  this  respect  Fin- 
land is  not  lacking.  But  in  the  rudiments  of  a  sound 
education  she  is  imsurpassed.  It  is  scarcely  an  exag- 
geration to  say  that  every  man,  woman,  and  child  of 
school  age  in  Finland  knows  the  three  "R's"— "reading 
'ritin'  and  'rithmetic" — and  he  can  pursue  his  education 
as  much  further  as  his  time  and  inclination  allow. 

Think  of  the  black  belts  of  illiteracy  in  our  own 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  167 

southland,  of  the  "Crackers"  who  have  never  tried  to 
learn  their  letters,  of  the  hordes  of  newcomers  to  our 
shores,  who  could  never  get  in  if  the  reading  test  were 
appHed  to  them!  I  acknowledge  that  America  has  a 
far  different  educational  problem  to  deal  with  than 
compact,  homogeneous  Finland,  but  it  nevertheless 
remains  true  that  from  the  standpoint  of  elementary 
education  Finland  stands  at  the  head  of  the  class  in 
the  school  of  the  nations. 

Most  exemplary  and  commendable  care  is  taken  to 
provide  for  the  physical  as  well  as  the  intellectual  health 
of  the  children.  I  have  not  visited  many  of  these  schools 
myself,  and  am  indebted  to  Mr.  Ernest  Young  for  the 
following  facts.  In  the  folk  schools,  which  correspond 
to  our  public  primary  and  grammar  schools,  manual 
work  and  gymnastics  are  required,  as  rigidly  as  study 
hours  and  recitations. 

The  General  Architectural  Council  of  Finland  draws 
the  plans  for  the  schoolhouses.  These  plans  provide 
for  such  minute  affairs  as  the  decorations  of  the  rooms. 
In  rooms  facing  the  north,  which  will  receive  Uttle  sun- 
light, especially  in  the  long  winter  days,  warm  reds, 
yellows,  and  greens  are  the  prevailing  tints;  in  the 
warmer  rooms  that  face  the  south  colder  tones  are 
used.  There  are  no  square  corners  for  the  accumulation 
of  dust.  The  boys  and  girls  have  separate  dressing 
rooms,  and  the  newer  buildings  are  provided  with 
shower  baths.  Overcoats  are  hung  up  in  the  cloak- 
rooms or  corridors,  and  there  is  not  only  a  separate 
place  for  each  class,  but  a  little  closet  for  each  pupil. 


i68        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Each  of  these  is  provided  with  a  peg,  a  shelf  for  caps 
and  bags,  a  stand  for  the  umbrella,  and  a  pigeonhole 
for  the  indispensable  goloshes.  Accommodations  for 
snowshoes,  sledges,  skis,  and  bicycles  are  also  provided. 
Every  folk  school  in  the  country  must  have  a  play- 
ground and  enough  free  land  connected  with  it  to  fur- 
nish a  garden  plot  for  the  teacher  and  pupils.  The 
government  is  so  fatherly,  not  to  say  motherly,  as  to 
ordain  that  the  girls'  desks  shall  be  provided  with  a 
pincushion. 

Coeducation  has  no  terror  for  the  Finns,  and  boys 
and  girls  are  educated  together  from  the  primary  school 
to  the  time  of  their  graduation  at  the  university. 
Parents  who  are  afraid  of  the  effects  of  "calf  love" 
from  coeducation  may  perhaps  be  reassured  by  a  re- 
mark quoted  from  a  Finnish  schoolgirl:  "We  may  fall 
in  love  when  we  are  at  school,"  she  said,  "but  never 
with  a  boy  in  the  same  school  as  ourselves.  You  see, 
we  know  them  too  well."  You  may  be  permitted, 
Judicia,  if  you  desire  to  do  so,  to  doubt  the  sweeping 
generalization  of  this  young  lady. 

Finland  must  be  a  perfect  paradise  in  simmaertime 
for  poor  and  sickly  children.  They  are  not  left  to  the 
occasional  ministrations  of  some  benevolent  individual 
or  voluntary  society  for  a  glimpse  of  the  country,  but, 
if  they  need  an  out-of-door  holiday,  they  are  sent  by 
the  municipality  of  Helsingfors  into  the  country  for  a 
week,  or  a  month,  or  three  months,  as  the  case  may  be, 
to  recover  health  and  strength  in  the  holiday  camps. 
That  there  is  nothing  haphazard  about  this  municipal 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  169 

benevolence  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  a  public  medical 
officer  sends  these  poor  children  into  the  country  and 
weighs  and  measures  them  before  each  holiday  to  know 
how  much  they  have  profited  by  it. 

The  morals  of  the  children  are  looked  after  as  well 
as  their  physical  and  mental  training.  Children  who 
wish  to  go  to  any  place  of  public  amusement  must  ask 
permission  of  the  head  master  of  the  school,  unless  they 
have  distinct  permission  from  their  parents,  and  in 
many  schools,  even  where  parents  give  permission,  the 
head  master  must  be  informed  of  it  before  the  pupil 
goes  to  any  public  show.  Every  encouragement  is 
given  to  poor  and  ambitious  children  who  desire  to  pur- 
sue their  education  through  the  university.  Free  food, 
free  clothes,  and  school  books  are  provided  for  those 
whose  parents  absolutely  cannot  furnish  them. 

Helsingfors  is  the  center  of  educational  Finland,  for 
here  is  the  great  college  called  the  Alexander  University, 
in  grateful  remembrance  of  Finland's  first  Russian 
Grand  Duke,  the  well-beloved  Alexander  I.  When 
graduation  time  comes,  each  faculty  in  the  schools  of 
theology,  law,  medicine,  and  philosophy  confers  sepa- 
rate degrees.  When  the  degrees  are  conferred,  a  cannon 
booms  from  the  parapet  near  by  in  honor  of  each  grad- 
uate, and  the  band  welcomes  him  to  his  new  honors 
with  stately  music.  Instead  of  the  gorgeous  hoods  dis- 
playing as  many  colors  as  Joseph's  coat,  with  which 
our  own  degrees  are  conferred,  the  Masters  of  Arts  in 
Finland  receive  a  gold  ring,  and  the  Doctors  a  silk-cov- 
ered hat. 


I70        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

A  beautiful  motto  is  set  over  the  door  of  Students- 
huset,  or  ''Students'  House,"  the  common  meeting  place 
of  the  students  of  both  sexes.  This  was  built  by  sub- 
scriptions voluntarily  given  by  people  in  all  parts  of  the 
country,  and  the  motto  over  the  door  is,  "  Given  by  the 
Fatherland  to  its  Hope."  No  motto  could  better  tell 
the  ardent  love  of  Finland  for  the  higher  education  of 
its  youth. 

But  you  ask  me,  Judicia,  "What  of  Helsingfors  it- 
self?" the  city  from  which  I  have  dated  my  letter.  Well, 
it  does  not  differ  greatly  from  other  European  cities, 
when  you  look  upon  it  superficially,  for  in  its  present 
aspect  it  is  distinctively  modern.  Like  all  large  Finnish 
towns,  it  has  been  burned  down  more  than  once,  and 
after  its  last  great  conflagration,  less  than  a  century 
ago,  its  architects  seem  to  have  copied  for  the  most 
part  the  models  set  them  by  other  cities,  for  that  was 
before  a  distinctive  type  of  Finnish  architecture  began 
to  make  its  appearance.  Many  of  the  streets  are  broad 
and  Hned  with  handsome  houses  and  business  blocks 
and  public  buildings.  The  University  and  the  Art 
Museum  are  substantial  but  not  imposing  buildings, 
while  the  inadequate  Diet  House,  as  I  told  you,  would 
soon  be  replaced  by  another  if  only  Czar  Nicholas  would 
give  his  imperial  permission. 

In  the  center  of  one  of  the  principal  squares  is  a  splen- 
did statue  of  Alexander  II,  which  a  grateful  people  often 
decorate  with  wreaths  to  this  day,  as  they  remember 
the  man  who  gave  them  back  their  Hberties.  One  would 
think  that  no  Russian  bureaucrat  to-day,  intent  upon 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  171 

taking  away  the  liberties  of  the  people,  could  look  on 
this  statue  without  a  glow  of  inward  shame. 

The  great  church  which  dominates  Helsingfors  is  St. 
Nicholas,  which  stands  on  a  sightly  eminence  near  the 
center  of  the  city,  and  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  Greek 
style  of  architecture.  Here  the  state  functions  are  ob- 
served, and  here  during  my  stay  a  great  Christian 
Endeavor  meeting  was  held  which  gave  me  an  oppor- 
timity  to  see  as  fine  a  congregation  of  men  and  women, 
young  and  old,  as  one  could  see  in  any  land  beneath  the 
sun. 

Though  the  St.  Nicholas  is  the  largest  and  most  popu- 
lar church  in  the  city,  there  is  another  whose  architec- 
ture is  far  more  remarkable,  for  it  is  the  latest  Finnish 
word  in  church  building.  It  has  the  most  massive  and 
stately  granite  tower  that  I  have  seen  on  any  church  in 
Europe.  It,  too,  stands  upon  a  hill,  and  half  a  dozen 
streets  seem  to  converge  to  it,  so  that  whenever lyou  lift 
up  your  eyes  from  almost  any  quarter  of  the  city  there 
is  this  magnificent  tower,  solemn,  imposing,  majestic,  a 
conception  which  only  a  Finnish  architect  would  dare 
to  execute.  The  tower  quite  dwarfs  the  rest  of  the 
church,  and  from  some  points  of  view  it  seems  to  be  all 
tower. 

The  audience  room  is  of  no  inconsiderable  size,  and  is 
better  adapted  for  singing  than  for  speaking.  A  fine 
organ  in  three  sections,  one  in  the  front  of  the  church, 
one  in  the  rear,  and  one  in  the  tower,  whose  notes  seem 
to  drop  down  as  from  heaven,  render  the  musical  ser- 
vices of  imusual  interest.    If  you  should  hear  ^^Suomi's 


172        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Song"  in  this  unique  church,  with  its  solemn  and  in- 
tensely patriotic  cadences  and  words,  you  would  better 
understand  the  love  of  the  Finns  for  their  country. 

I  have  not  space  to  tell  you  much  of  the  literature  of 
Finland,  nor  could  I  were  my  space  unlimited,  for  much 
of  the  best  of  it  has  not  been  translated  into  English. 
As  one  has  said:  "A  mere  glance  at  a  Finnish  grammar, 
with  its  sixteen  cases  for  the  nouns  and  its  host  of  gram- 
matical complexities,  gives  one  a  humorous  notion  that 
it  might  have  been  perfected  for  the  purpose  of  prevent- 
ing any  other  nation  from  knowing  anything  about  the 
beauties  that  it  enshrines." 

However,  some  of  the  works  of  the  beloved  author 
Runeberg  have  been  translated  under  the  title  Ensign 
Stals  Song.  I  have  already  quoted  from  the  Kalevala, 
the  great  epic  of  Finland,  so  admirably  translated  by  Mr. 
Kirby  and  published  in  the  **  Everyman  Library."  Of 
this  poem  Max  Miiller  says:  "It  should  have  a  place  in 
the  literature  of  the  world,  on  the  same  shelf  with  the 
poems  of  Homer,  the  Niehelungen^  and  other  great  epics 
which  the  world  will  not  willingly  let  die." 

After  all,  interesting  as  is  the  country,  the  architec- 
ture, the  Hterature,  and  the  social  customs,  the  most 
interesting  thing  about  Finland  is  the  Finn  himself. 
His  sturdiness,  his  good  sense,  his  progressive  spirit,  his 
willingness  to  try  experiments,  but  always  under  the 
aegis  of  the  Goddess  of  Law  and  Order;  his  healthy  con- 
servatism, his  wise  radicalism,  his  love  of  liberty,  his 
hatred  of  tyranny — all  combine  to  make  one  of  the  most 
interesting  individuals  on  the  face  of  the  earth.    I  am 


SWEDEN  AND  FINLAND  173 

glad  that  so  many  Finns  have  come  to  America,  and 
that  more  are  coming.  They  add  the  best  possible  ele- 
ment to  our  body  politic.  They  do  not  herd  together  in 
the  purlieus  of  our  great  cities,  but  for  the  most  part 
spread  themselves  out  over  the  limitless  farmlands  of 
the  west,  though  some  of  them  find  employment  in  our 
manufacturing  cities.  Driven  away  from  their  home 
land  by  hard  conditions  of  life  or  by  the  tyranny  of 
their  oppressors,  three  himdred  thousand  of  them  have 
found  homes  in  the  United  States.  Intelligent,  law- 
abiding,  Hberty-loving,  there  is  no  better  American  than 
the  Finnish  American. 

I  do  not  know,  Judicia,  whether  my  poor  letters  have 
made  you  feel  the  charm  of  these  sturdy,  wholesome, 
homelike  nations  of  the  far  north,  whose  fascination  lies 
not  so  much  in  their  art  as  in  the  varied  beauties  of 
the  natural  scenery  and  in  the  character  of  the  people 
themselves,  but,  as  for  me,  I  must  confess  that  I  have 
fallen  completely  under  the  spell  of  Greater  Scandinavia. 

Faithfully  yours, 
Phillips. 


AYLMER  WRITES  OF  NORWAY 
AND   DENMARK 


FIRST  LETTER 

Aylmer  explains  his  purpose  in  the  letters  he  will  write;  from  Ger- 
many to  Denmark  by  ferry;  the  Danebrog;  the  wounded  soldier; 
Harald  Bluetooth  and  other  characters  of  the  past;  Roskilde;  the 
arrival  in  Copenhagen;  certain  of  the  Great  Danes;  **  Bil-Jonen 
Teatret "  and  **  The  Hurricane  Girls." 

Copenhagen,  December  3. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

Here  I  am  in  "Merchants'  Harbor,"  alias  Kopman- 
naehafn,  alias  Axelhus,  etc.,  but  more  anon  of  it  and 
its  names.  First  I  must  tell  you  about  the  trip  here. 
Please  don't  misunderstand  my  use  of  the  word  "trip." 
I  refuse  to  write  you  about  "My  Trip"  as  such.  In 
other  words,  I  am  not  going  to  personally  conduct  you  by 
letter  through  Denmark  and  Norway.  Thomas  Cook 
and  Thomas  Bennett  and  James  Currie  and  Mr.  Bae- 
deker, and  many  other  good  men,  will  do  that  for  you 
by  book.  All  I  shall  do  is  to  keep  my  mind  open  to  the 
pleasures  and  charms  of  these  two  countries,  and  when 
they  cast  their  spell  on  me  I  shall  try  to  make  you  feel 
it  as  I  do.  In  other  words,  I  am  not  going  to  be  intimi- 
dated into  having  raptures  over  what  the  guide  book 
stars,  and,  if  I  choose,  I  am  going  to  like  what  it  does 
not  star.    Furthermore,  I  am  not  going  to  take  you  on 


178        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

any  set  tour,  for  I  don't  expect  to  take  any  such  myself 
but  I  do  expect  to  see  a  good  many  places  in  these  closely 
united  countries,  and  when  anything  appeals  to  me  I 
shall  describe  it,  in  the  hope  that  it  may  appeal  equally 
to  you. 

Rather  a  long  preamble  to  my  first  letter,  isn't  it? 
But  I  trust  it  will  make  my  idea  plain  and  that  you  will 
not  be  disappointed  if  I  don't  act  in  the  capacity  of 
courier.  I  said  good-by  to  Germany  and  continental 
Europe  yesterday  noon  at  Warnemunde.  Our  train  was 
trundled  aboard  the  Prinz  Christian^  though  I  cannot 
state  for  which  of  Denmark's  many  royal  ''Christians" 
it  was  named,  and  we  had  a  two-hour  sea  voyage,  during 
which  it  was  evident  from  the  pensive  demeanor  of 
some  of  my  fellow  passengers  that  seasickness  was  "not 
imknown,"  as  Baedeker  would  euphoniously  say. 

During  this  sea  voyage  we  were  supposed  to  take  our 
noon  meal,  which  I  must  now  begin  to  call  middag,  and 
as  I  am  by  nature  furnished  with  a  good  appetite  I 
did  n't  resist  the  invitation.  Most  of  the  ladies  were 
"pensive"  and  remained  on  deck  gasping,  but  the  men, 
all  wearing  a  look  of  conceited  amusement,  nonchalantly 
sought  the  dining  cabin.  I  had  heard  much  about  the 
famous  Danish  smorrebrodj  and  I  was  keenly  anticipat- 
ing it,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  Prinz  Christian  was 
too  much  under  foreign  influence  and  did  not  offer  the 
full  glories  of  smorrebrod,  which  I  found  later  here  in 
Copengahen.  However,  I  will  keep  you  for  awhile  in 
breathless  suspense  on  that  point. 

Most  of  the  people  on  the  boat  seemed  to  be  Germans 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  179 

or  Danes,  and  one  couple  opposite  me  at  middag  I  must 
describe.  This  "couple"  consisted  of  a  very  big  father 
and  a  very  little  son.  The  father  was  one  of  the  greatest 
of  the  Great  Danes,  physically  at  least.  I  have  hardly 
ever  seen  such  a  huge  man.  The  son  seemed  to  be  ten 
or  twelve  years  old,  but  he  was  as  much  below  the 
average  in  size  as  his  father  was  above  it.  The  Great 
Dane  seemed  to  think  that  strong,  black  coffee  was  the 
thing  to  make  his  infinitesimal  son  grow,  and  he  made 
him  drink  three  big  cups  of  it.  Father  and  son  were  the 
most  stolid  pair  I  have  ever  seen,  but  the  little  fellow 
was  very  miserable  and  wore  a  face  as  though  he  were 
taking  medicine.  He  woidd  gulp  down  all  the  coffee  he 
could  stand,  then  gasp  for  breath  and  look  appealingly 
at  his  father,  who  stolidly  urged  him  on.  It  was  very 
pathetic,  but  at  least  I  had  the  comfort  of  knowing  that 
coffee  could  never  ruin  his  nerves,  for  it  was  plain  that 
he  had  none. 

All  this  time  I  would  not  have  yielded  so  calmly  to  the 
demands  of  the  inner  man  if  it  had  not  been  that  there 
was  nothing  to  see.  Prinz  Christian  was  enveloped  in  a 
dense  fog,  and  the  limit  of  the  view  was  a  few  yards  of 
gray,  tossing  sea.  But  in  spite  of  the  fog,  our  noble 
captain  steered  straight  for  the  ferry  sUp.  A  little  jolt- 
ing and  bumping  and  clanking  of  chains,  and  we  were  on 
Danish  soil. 

By  a  miracle,  which  I  think  must  have  been  performed 
largely  for  my  benefit,  the  fog  immediately  rolled  away. 
I  refused  then  and  I  still  refuse  to  believe  those  lugubri- 
ous writers  who  characterize  Denmark's  winter  as  long 


i8o  ^      THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

and  dreary  and  muddy.  Certainly  I  couldn't  ask  for 
finer  weather  than  I  have  had  during  the  thirty-six  hours 
I  have  been  in  the  country.  I  am  open  to  conviction  on 
that  point,  but  the  pessimist  must  produce  something  a 
good  deal  worse  than  the  present  weather  before  I  will 
believe  him. 

I  had  not  been  on  Danish  soil  two  minutes  before  I 
saw  the  Danish  flag,  the  world-famous  Danehrog,  waving 
over  a  schoolhouse.  It  was  very  striking,  with  its  bold 
white  cross  on  a  vivid  red  background.  There  is  a 
beautiful  legend  connected  with  the  origin  of  this  flag. 
It  seems  that  "once  upon  a  time"  King  Valdemar,  be- 
ing filled  with  holy  zeal  (possibly  augmented  by  unholy 
greed),  made  an  expedition  against  the  heathen  inhabit- 
ants of  Esthonia.  At  first  they  submitted  in  crowds  and 
were  baptized.  But  when  the  novelty  of  being  converted 
began  to  wear  off,  they  turned  against  the  evangeHst 
king  and  fought  furiously.  "At  this,"  says  the  chronicle, 
"like  Moses  of  old,  Andres  Suneson  (the  archbishop) 
mounted  the  hill  with  his  bishops  and  clerks,  that  they 
might  lay  the  sword  of  prayer  in  the  scales  of  battle;  but 
when  his  arms  dropped  at  last  through  weariness,  his 
people  began  to  fly.  Then  his  brethren  supported  the 
old  man's  hands,  and  as  long  as  they  were  held  up  the 
Danes  conquered." 

At  this  point  a  miracle  occurred.  The  banner  of  the 
Danes  had  been  lost  in  the  fray,  and  to  repair  the  loss 
"a  red  banner  with  the  holy  cross  in  white  on  it  came 
floating  gently  down  through  the  clouds."  King  Valde- 
mar gathered  his  men  xmder  this  heavenly  banner  and 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  i8i 

had  no  further  trouble  in  defeating  the  heathen  (and 
gaining  their  desirable  territory). 

This  king,  by  the  way,  was  Valdemar  den  Seir,  or 
the  "Victorious."  Danish  history  fairly  bristles  with 
Valdemars,  and  even  now  there  is  a  prince  by  that  name. 

The  scenery  all  the  way  from  Gjedser,  the  haven  of 
the  ferry  from  Warnemiinde,  smiled  at  us,  at  least  until 
darkness  erased  the  smile.  The  Danes  have  only  one 
hill  in  their  whole  country,  and  that  is  far  away  in 
Jutland,  but  the  flatness  of  the  islands  of  Laaland  and 
Zealand  through  which  we  pass  does  not  make  for 
monotony.  Everywhere  the  landscape  smiles  cordially, 
warmly,  invitingly.  Really  the  landscape's  invitation 
was  so  genuine  that  I  could  hardly  resist  getting  off  at 
one  of  the  little  stations  en  route. 

Most  of  the  farmhouses  are  built  of  plaster  with  inter- 
lacing framework  of  wooden  beams,  which  would  make 
them  Elizabethan,  wouldn't  it,  if  they  were  a  little  more 
pretentious?  The  windmills  are  a  cross  between  the 
ancient  kind  with  four  huge  wings  and  the  modern  kind 
with  many  little  spokes.  They  presented  the  appearance 
of  Ferris  wheels  one  third  Hfe  size. 

At  the  station  of  Kjoge  a  young  soldier  got  on  the 
train  and  I  was  shocked  to  note  that  he  was  badly 
wounded  on  the  head,  for  he  wore  there  a  broad  white 
bandage.  I  was  pouring  out  my  sympathy  on  the  poor 
wounded  soldier  lad  when  he  turned  around,  and  it  was 
not  until  then  that  I  discovered  that  his  ''bandage" 
was  a  ridiculous  blue  and  white  cap,  perched  far  on 
the  off  side  of  his  head.    I  have  since  seen  many  of 


i82        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

these  "wounded"  soldiers,  and  I  can  never  quite  con- 
trol my  amusement  when  I  see  a  great  strapping  fellow 
with  one  of  these  foolish  little  caps  fastened  to  the  side 
of  his  head.  In  appearance  they  are  like  the  caps  that 
you  find  in  the  snapdragons  at  a  children's  party. 

About  some  other  things  Denmark  seems  very  naive. 
The  smokestacks  on  all  the  engines  have  little  bands  of 
red  and  blue  adorning  them.  Really  they  are  cunning 
enough  to  play  with.  Also  some  of  the  railway  cars  are 
double-deckers,  two-story  affairs,  while  others  are 
absolutely  open  like  an  electric  car.  They  remind  me 
of  the  pictures  of  the  "first  train  in  America  —  1820." 

Also  the  language  is  most  deUcious  at  times.  A  very 
frequent  sign  reads:  Ikke  Spytte  Paa  Gulvet.  When 
you  know  that  ikke  means  "not"  and  that  gulvet  means 
the  "floor,"  Chaucer  will  come  to  your  aid  for  the 
rest.  Pronounce  that  sign  phonetically  and  see  if  you 
don't  feel  as  though  you  were  stroking  a  kitten. 

One  very  historic  town  we  passed  through  on  the  way 
from  Gjedser  to  Copenhagen  yesterday  —  ancient 
Roskilde.  It  was  once  an  important  city,  far  more  so 
than  the  Httle  village  on  the  east  coast  of  the  island, 
which  men  called  Kopmannaehafn.  But  the  Reforma- 
tion accompHshed  here,  as  in  so  many  other  cities  of  the 
north,  its  deadly  work  (of  course  deadly  only  from  an 
architectural  point  of  view),  and  Roskilde  is  now  a  busy, 
commonplace  little  town,  with  only  the  historic  cathedral 
to  remind  us  of  the  past.  Old  King  Harald  Bluetooth 
built  a  wooden  church  here  a  thousand  years  ago,  and 
this  cathedral  was  its  immediate  successor.     It  is  the 


Copenhagen  Exchange. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  183 

burial  place  of  many  of  Denmark's  most  famous  kings 
and  queens,  among  them  Christian  IV,  who  did  per- 
haps more  for  the  advancement  of  his  country  than  any 
other  king  before  or  since,  and  Queen  Margaret  Valde- 
marsdatter,  who  was  the  only  ruler  strong  enough  to 
unite  the  three  countries  of  Scandinavia  into  a  single 
nation.  Christian  IX,  the  "father  of  half  of  Europe,'' 
lies  here,  and  many  other  Fredericks  and  Christians. 
Danish  nobiUty  is  not  clever  at  thinking  up  new  names 
for  itself.  All  who  are  not  Valdemars  are  either  Frede- 
ricks or  Christians,  with  here  and  there  a  Canute  or  a 
Sweyn  or  a  Gorm. 

Right  here  I  am  tempted  to  go  into  a  history  of  some 
of  these  old  kings,  whose  names  are  so  attractive,  such 
as  Gorm  the  Old,  Canute  the  Great,  Harald  Bluetooth, 
and  Sweyn  Forkbeard,  but  Danish  history  is  so  closely 
interwoven  with  Norwegian  that  it  is  impossible  to  tell 
one  without  telling  the  other.  For  more  than  four  hun- 
dred years  they  were  actually  united,  and  for  nearly 
three  hundred  they  were  one  and  the  same  country. 
The  language  of  the  two  countries  has  always  been  and 
is  to-day  practically  identical.  In  view  of  this  I  think 
I  will  wait  until  I  get  to  Norway  and  then  give  you  a  dis- 
sertation on  the  subject.  In  all  this,  Judicia,  I  am  assum- 
ing that  you  don't  know  any  more  about  it  than  I  did 
before  I  read  it  up.  I  hope  you  are  not  too  much  en- 
raged at  such  an  assimiption. 

It  was  as  dark  as  Egypt  or  Pockonocket  or  any  other 
place  that  is  very,  very  dark  when  our  train  left  Roskilde, 
but  it  was  only  a  short  journey  to  Copenhagen,  and  I 


i84        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  anticipation.  A  book  I  read 
on  the  train  characterized  Copenhagen  as  a  dull,  prosaic 
city,  but  being  in  an  obstinate  frame  of  mind  I  refused 
to  be  prejudiced  against  it.  As  the  train  drew  into  the 
huge  new  Vesterbro  station,  I  felt  a  thrill  of  patriotic 
delight  to  note  that  the  freight  yard  was  illumined  with 
red,  white,  and  blue  arc  lights.  Perhaps  these  colors 
were  not  very  vivid  or  pronounced,  but  they  were  at 
least  suggested,  and  I  feel  sure  it  was  done  in  my 
honor. 

There  is  much  to  tell  about  Copenhagen.  It  is  not 
dull  or  prosaic,  or,  if  it  is,  I  like  a  dull,  prosaic  city.  In 
this  letter  I  will  only  describe  my  arrival  in  Denmark's 
capital,  and  in  a  few  days,  when  I  have  had  a  chance  to 
see  more,  I  will  tell  you  more  about  it. 

Outside  the  Vesterbro  I  found  a  perfect  mob  of 
"taxameters"  (you  know  we  have  always  spelled  that 
word  wrong  in  America).  The  poor  old  cabmen  have 
been  driven  out  of  business  by  these  swarms  of  gay, 
whizzing  taxameters.  Copenhagen  is  the  breeding  place 
of  autos,  I  verily  believe.  We  have  a  few  in  New  York 
and  Boston,  and  I've  even  seen  them  in  other  parts  of 
the  world,  but  I  never  saw  what  seemed  so  many  in  any 
other  city.  I  dare  not  look  up  statistics  for  fear  of  hav- 
ing my  impression  shattered.  Perhaps  it  is  partly  the 
audacity  and  gay  colors  of  these  autos  that  make  them 
seem  so  omnipresent.  They  are  purple  or  yellow  or 
white,  usually,  and  they  own  the  city. 

Copenhagen  is  a  brilliantly  lighted  city.  Really 
Broadway  must  extend  itself  if  it  would  beat  Copen- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  185 

hagen  in  this  respect.  There  are  all  sorts  of  electric 
signs.  In  one  window  I  saw  a  perfect  imitation  of  fire. 
Paper  streamers  were  blown  upward  by  an  electric  fan 
and  so  lighted  by  red  and  orange  electric  lights  that  I 
had  to  look  twice  before  I  decided  not  to  run  for  the 
nearest  fire  box.  In  another  shop  window  an  arctic 
blizzard  raged  furiously  all  the  evening,  and  I  suppose 
only  abated  when  the  shopkeeper  went  to  bed.  There 
are  many  brilliant  electric  advertisements,  among  which 
I  am  sorry  to  say  certain  whisky  and  cognac  signs  pre- 
dominate. I  fear  there  is  more  drunkenness  in  Denmark 
than  in  Sweden.  At  any  rate  a  certain  rather  humorous 
writer  says  that  the  ferry  from  Helsingborg  (Sweden) 
to  Helsingor  (Denmark)  is  much  patronized  by  thirsty 
Swedes  escaping  from  the  Gothenburg  system.  How- 
ever, I  doubt  not  Phillips  is  enlarging  upon  Sweden's 
stringent  temperance  laws  as  a  claim  for  the  superiority 
of  that  country,  so  I  will  He  low  on  that  point. 

To  return  to  my  arrival  in  Copenhagen.  The  taxa- 
meter  whizzed  me  around  in  no  time  to  Grand  Hotel 
Jensen  on  Colbjornsensgade,  and  I  was  greeted  there, 
much  to  my  surprise,  by  two  very  husky  and  very 
blonde  lady  porters,  or  should  I  call  them  "porterettes?'' 
Well,  these  lady  porters  took  my  suitcase  and  even 
Jumbo  up  two  flights  of  stairs  to  the  room  which  was 
assigned  me.  You  know  something  about  Jmnbo.  It 
is  almost  as  heavy  as  a  trunk,  and  it  takes  a  strong 
man  to  carry  it  far,  but  my  blonde  porterettes  flew  up 
the  stairs  with  it,  whistHng  as  they  went.  Oh  these 
Great  Danes! 


i86        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

I  took  a  short  "twist"  along  Vesterbrogade  and 
Frederiksberg  Alle  and  back  through  a  lot  of  other 
streets,  whose  names  you  are  of  course  eager  to  know. 
The  Danish  and  Norwegian  language  has  the  happy 
custom  of  attaching  its  definite  or  indefinite  article  to 
the  end  of  its  noun,  and  thus  a  hotel  is  a  hotellet  and  a 
theater  is  Si'teatret.  One  sign  struck  me  as  particularly 
interesting.  It  was  no  less  than  "Bil-Jonen  Teatret," 
which  I  took  to  mean  the  "Bill  Jones  Theater."  I  was 
convinced  of  the  correctness  of  my  interpretation  by 
seeing  that  the  principal  feature  of  the  week's  program 
was  "The  Hurricane  Girls  from  Broadway."  I  haven't 
yet  seen  the  Hurricane  Girls,  and  I  doubt  if  I  shall  let 
them  know  that  a  fellow  countryman  is  in  the  city. 

It  is  getting  late,  even  as  the  Danes  reckon  lateness, 
so  I  think  I  will  say  god  natt. 

As  ever  sincerely, 
Aylmer. 


SECOND  LETTER 

Copenhagen  alias  Axelhus;  the  origin  of  the  city;  the  twin  towers 
of  Fjenneslev;  the  Raadhus  and  its  towers;  Christian  IV  and 
Brewer  Jacobsen;  Stroget;  the  fountains  of  Copenhagen;  the 
Tivoli  Gardens;  smorrebrod. 

Copenhagen,  January  12. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

It  is  over  a  week  since  I  wrote  to  you,  and  I  have  been 
sightseeing  furiously  ever  since,  but  I  have  barely  begun 
to  see  this  interesting  old  town.  It  has  rained  all  but 
two  days  of  that  time;  but  what  of  that?  Personally, 
I  like  rain.  Think  how  clean  and  wet  it  is.  Why 
shouldn't  a  city  take  a  daily  showerbath?  An3rway, 
I  like  Copenhagen. 

When  I  mailed  my  letter  to  you  last  week  I  went  into 
a  tobacco  shop  to  buy  a  stamp,  and  also  to  inquire 
where  the  post  office  was,  for  I  thought  there  might  be 
something  in  the  poste  restante  for  me.  The  shop- 
keeper sold  me  a  stamp,  but  as  for  the  post  office,  he 
said  it  wasn't  necessary  to  go  there  to  mail  my  letter. 
I  could  drop  it  into  one  of  the  letter  boxes  which  were 
everywhere.  That  remark  in  its  naivete  reminds  me  of 
a  sentence  which  I  must  quote  from  a  book  I  have  on 
Scandinavia.  The  author  is  very  enthusiastic  about 
the  ship  which  carries  him  from  England  to  Norway, 
and  says:   "The  provision  of  the  electric  light  in  this 


i88        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

noble  ship  is  also  a  great  luxury,  enabling  you  to 
make  light  or  darkness  as  you  please  in  your  berth, 
by  merely  touching  a  switch  within  easy  reach/' 

Think  of  it!  Such  luxury  is  almost  effeminate,  isn't 
it?  However,  I  don't  seem  to  be  telling  you  much  about 
this  city,  and  there  is  so  much  to  tell  that  I  am  in 
despair.  The  city's  original  name  was  Axelhus,  named 
for  its  original  owner.  Bishop  Absalon,  who  found  it  a 
small  fishing  village  and  made  it  into  a  fortress  against 
the  heathen  Wends.  Perhaps  Axelhus  would  not  seem  to 
bear  a  very  close  etymological  connection  with  Absalon, 
but  you  see  the  bishop's  real  name  was  Axel,  and  when 
he  entered  upon  his  ecclesiastical  career  he  searched  the 
Scriptures  for  a  name  which  should  sound  something 
like  "Axel."  As  "Absalon"  (the  Danish  form  of  "Ab- 
salom") was  the  best  he  could  find,  he  adopted  that. 

This  Bishop  Absalon  and  his  brother  Esbjorn  Snare, 
who  built  and  fortified  Kallundberg  on  the  opposite 
coast  of  Zealand,  were  the  mainstays  of  Denmark  eight 
centuries  ago.  The  brothers  were  twins,  and  the  sons  of 
a  famous  warrior  name  Asker  Ryg,  who  lived  at  Fjen- 
neslev,  in  the  middle  of  Zealand.  One  day  Asker  Ryg 
went  to  battle,  leaving  a  church  at  Fjenneslev  half 
built.  He  left  word  with  his  wife  that  should  a  son  be 
bom  during  his  absence  she  was  to  have  a  tower  built 
on  this  church,  so  that  he  might  know  the  good  news 
as  soon  as  he  should  come  in  sight  of  the  town.  If  a 
daughter  should  be  bom,  no  tower  was  to  be  built. 
Some  time  later  Asker  Ryg  returned,  and  as  he  mounted 
the  hill  near  Fjenneslev  he  saw  a  church  with  two  towers. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  189 

Axel  and  Esbjorn  Snare  were  the  cause,  and  they  later 
proved  worthy  of  their  father's  rejoicing. 

To-day  Bishop  Absalon  continues  to  be  the  pride  of 
the  Copenhageners.  In  a  square  facing  the  island  of 
Slotsholmen,  which  he  made  his  strongest  fortification, 
he  sits  in  bronze,  forever  reining  in  his  charger.  He 
also  guards  the  entrance  to  the  new  town  hall,  which 
of  course  I  must  call  Raadhuset.  I  understand  that  an 
American  architect  (perhaps  troubled  with  professional 
jealousy)  says  that  if  he  put  up  a  building  hke  that  in 
America  his  next  step  would  be  to  pull  it  down.  At  any 
rate  it  cost  the  city  six  million  kronor,  more  than  a 
million  and  a  half  dollars,  and  is  fitted  out  with  a  marvel- 
ous wealth  of  detail.  On  the  walls  of  one  of  the  stairways 
are  two  very  interesting  pictures  representing  the  city 
in  1587  and  161 1  respectively.  It  was  about  that  time 
that  the  herring  fisheries  attracted  so  many  merchants 
that  the  name  of  the  town  was  changed  from  Axelhus 
to  Kopmannaehafn,  or  "Merchants'  Haven."  Promi- 
nent in  each  of  these  pictures  is  a  gallows  on  which  two 
unfortunates  are  hanging.  Probably  they  had  stolen 
half  a  loaf  of  bread  or  committed  some  equally  atrocious 
icrime. 

The  Raadhus  has  a  tower  three  hundred  and  forty 
feet  in  height,  from  which  you  get  a  fine  view  and  a  good 
idea  of  the  city.  On  the  wall,  nearly  up  to  the  top,  is  a 
diagram,  comparing  this  in  height  with  various  other 
high  buildings  and  towers.  Washington  Monument 
and  the  Eiffel  Tower  are  represented,  and  St.  Peter's, 
St.  Paul's,  and  St.  Botolph's  in  Boston,  England,  and 


I90        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  Chicago  Masonic  Temple,  and  a  motley  array  of 
other  high  buildings.  For  some  strange  reason  Wool- 
worth's  skyscraper  is  omitted,  as  is  also  the  Singer 
Building.  Not  one  of  New  York's  skyscrapers  is  given 
a  place  in  this  hall  of  fame.  I  think  I  shall  ask  the  mayor 
what  he  has  against  New  York. 

From  the  top  of  this  tower  you  may  see  why  Copen- 
hagen is  called  the  "City  of  Spires" — no,  I  should  have 
spelled  "spires"  with  a  small  "s,"  as  this  was  not  the 
city  where  they  held  the  diet.  Christian  IV  is  responsi- 
ble for  many  of  the  spires  which  rise  in  all  directions, 
for  so  many  in  fact  that  a  certain  author,  in  a  perfectly 
vile  pun,  calls  him  an  "aspiring"  monarch.  Of  late 
years  the  old  seventeenth-century  Christian  has  had  to 
divide  the  honors,  in  this  particular,  with  Brewer  Jacob- 
sen.  It  is  astounding  to  see  how  greatly  the  city  has 
profited  by  the  Carlsberg  brewer's  generosity.  Two 
fine  collections  of  antiquities  and  of  sculpture  this 
philanthropist  has  given  to  the  city,  the  Frederiksborg 
castle-museum,  and  the  Ny-Glyptothek.  Besides  these 
he  has  made  innumerable  smaller  gifts.  Whenever  a 
tower  needs  to  be  built  or  repaired.  Brewer  Jacobsen 
comes  to  the  rescue  and  builds  it  or  repairs  it.  Even  now 
I  understand  he  is  contemplating  the  erection  of  a  new 
spire  on  the  famous  Frue  Kirke,  to  replace  the  one 
destroyed  by  a  former  bombardment  of  the  city.  At 
first  it  seemed  rather  ridiculous  that  so  much  of  the 
city's  architectural  splendor  is  due  to  beer,  but  I  really 
believe  the  brewer  has  done  much  for  the  cause  of 
temperance.    His  "beer"  is  something  like  ginger  pop, 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  191 

and  is  scarcely  more  intoxicating  than  milk.  It  is  so 
light  that  it  is  considered  by  many  teetotalers  as  a  tem- 
perance drink.  If  his  temperance  beer  can  compete 
with  more  harmful  productions,  he  certainly  is  to  be 
congratulated. 

As  for  the  buildings  of  Christian  IV,  their  name  is 
legion,  for  they  are  many.  It  is  curious  that  so  much  of 
his  making  has  lasted  for  three  centuries  or  more,  de- 
spite bombardments  and  innumerable  fires.  From  the 
tower  we  see  a  curious  spire  formed  of  the  interlacing 
tails  of  dragons.  This  was  one  of  Christian  IV's  towers. 
In  other  directions  we  see  the  spires  of  his  summer 
palace,  Rosenborg,  and  many  other  buildings  which  re- 
call this  great  architect-king,  among  them  Regenson, 
the  college  which  he  built  for  poor  students;  the  Round 
Tower,  which  he  built  for  the  use  of  his  astronomers, 
and  his  arsenal.  He  had  the  twin  spires  placed  on  the 
cathedral  of  Roskilde,  and  he  built  the  famous  castle  of 
Frederiksborg,  which  his  modern  colleague  in  philan- 
thropy. Brewer  Jacobsen,has  transformed  into  a  museum. 
It  is  said  that  with  his  own  hands  he  built  the  old  tower 
on  the  Frue  Kirke,  and  so  reHable  an  authority  as  Hjal- 
mar  Boyesen  says:  "With  level  and  square  in  his  pocket, 
he  walked  about  testing  the  soundness  of  the  work  of 
his  carpenters,  masons,  and  architects." 

He  must  have  been  a  wonderful  old  king,  even  if  he 
was  not  particularly  modest  about  naming  cities  for 
himself.  He  founded  the  modern  Christiania  and 
named  it  for  himself,  and  also  Christianssund,  in  the 
south  of  Norway.    Doesn't  he  remind  you  of  Alexander 


192        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  Great  in  that  respect?  Boyesen  says  he  was  so 
democratic  that  he  delighted  to  attend  a  party  at  the 
apothecary's,  where  the  jolly  guests  smashed  all  the 
windows;  which  makes  me  wonder  whether,  if  he  were 
alive  to-day,  he  would  join  the  jolly  sujffragettes  of 
England  in  smashing  windows. 

You  poor  Judicial  I  have  kept  you  standing  up  in 
the  Raadhus  tower  a  long  time,  haven't  I?  I  hope  you 
have  not  been  cold,  but  if  you  have  you  can  warm  your- 
self by  walking  down  some  three  hundred  steps.  From 
the  Raadhus-Plads  there  is  a  series  of  streets  leading  to 
Kongens  Nytorv,  and  here,  between  these  two  important 
squares,  you  will  find  echt  Copenhagen.  It  is  lovingly 
called  by  the  Danes  Strdget,  or  the  "Promenade." 
Half  of  Copenhagen  must  go  through  here  every  day, 
though  it  is  hardly  wide  enough  for  two  teams  to  pass. 
Stroget  is  one  of  the  few  places  in  the  city  where  electric 
cars  are  prohibited,  and  only  an  old-fashioned  omnibus 
plies  back  and  forth.  I  believe  it  would  create  a  civil 
war  if  any  company  tried  to  desecrate  this  beloved, 
busy  Stroget  with  an  electric  car  line.  You  get  jostled 
and  elbowed  all  the  way  along,  which  would  strike  you 
as  "not  quite  nice"  in  the  Copenhageners,  were  it  not 
that  they  expect  to  be  equally  jostled  and  elbowed. 
You  see,  people  have  elbowed  their  way  through  here 
for  centuries,  and  that  is  part  of  the  charm  of  it. 

Midway  in  Stroget  is  a  most  interesting  institution 
called  Amagertorv,  where  for  centuries  the  women  of 
Amager  have  sold  fruit  and  flowers.  These  women  are 
the  descendants  of  the  Dutch  people  whom  Christian  II 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  193 

imported  from  Holland  some  four  centuries  ago.  He 
fell  in  love  with  a  Dutch  girl  whom  he  called  Dyveke, 
or  "Little  Dove."  Later  she  became  his  morganatic 
wife,  and  the  house  which  this  very  bad  Christian  built 
for  her  still  stands  on  the  corner  of  Nielsgade.  In  order 
that  she  might  have  congenial  company  he  imported 
several  hundred  of  her  compatriots,  and  it  is  the  de- 
scendants of  these  who  still  sell  fruit  and  flowers  in 
Amagertorv. 

In  Kongens  Nytorv,  the  eastern  terminus  of  Stroget, 
no  less  than  thirteen  streets  converge.  Here  is  situated, 
among  other  fine  buildings,  "Kongelige  Teatret."  I 
refuse  to  interpret  such  obvious  bits  of  the  Danish 
tongue.  It  would  be  an  insult  to  your  intelligence.  It 
was  here  that  Holberg,  the  great  dramatist,  won  his 
fame.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  his  modern  compatriot, 
Asta  Nielsen,  has  won  far  more  fame  in  certain  circles. 
Perhaps  you  don't  know,  Judicia,  that  Asta  devotes  her 
time  and  her  histrionic  talent  entirely  to  moving  pictures 
now.  All  over  Italy  and  Germany  I  saw  flaming  ad- 
vertisements of  her  as  about  to  perform  through  the 
mediimi  of  moving  pictures  "The  Dance  of  Death"  and 
other  equally  thrilHng  dances.  Oh,  she  is  undoubtedly 
very  popular  with  the  patrons  of  the  "movies,"  but 
nevertheless  I  think  I  should  prefer  to  be  Holberg  dead 
than  Asta  Nielsen  alive. 

In  the  middle  of  Kongens  Nytorv  is  a  well-known 
statue,  which  the  Danes  call  Hesten  or  the  "Horse." 
It  represents  Christian  V  riding  down  a  writhing  form, 
but  whether  that  form  represents  abstract  Envy  or  con- 


194        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

cete  Sweden  no  one  seems  to  know.  At  any  rate,  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  Artemisia,  Minerva,  and  Hercules  are 
admiringly  looking  on,  though  how  the  Danes  managed 
to  corral  all  these  people  into  Kongens  Nytorv  I  don't 
know.  It  is  curious,  too,  that  Hercules  and  Minerva 
have  also  found  their  way  over  to  Slotsholmen,  and 
there,  together  with  Nemesis  and  vEsculapius,  look  up 
at  Frederick  VII. 

■Right  here  I  must  tell  you  something  about  Copen- 
hagen's many  statues  and  fountains.  In  the  Raadhus- 
Plads  three  of  the  weirdest  dragons  that  were  ever  in- 
vented spout  from  their  monstrous  snouts  three  foolish 
little  jets  of  water.  The  small  boys  used  to  play  over 
these  and  stick  corks  in  the  dragons'  snouts,  and  so  the 
clever  authorities  built  a  wide  moat  all  around  it,  and 
now  those  boys  have  got  to  swim  for  it  if  they  want  to 
play  practical  jokes  on  the  dragons.  In  Gammeltorv 
there  is  an  old  foimtain  which  spouts  golden  apples  on 
the  king's  birthday  and  other  national  holidays.  In 
another  part  of  the  city  Gefion  is  represented  plow- 
ing furiously  with  four  bulls.  This  Gefion  was  an  ancient 
goddess  who  was  to  have  as  much  territory  as  she  could 
plow  up  in  a  single  night.  By  dint  of  great  energy  she 
plowed  all  the  territory  from  Skaane,  the  southern- 
most province  of  Sweden,  to  the  southernmost  part  of 
Zealand.  The  island  of  Zealand  then  broke  off  from 
Sweden  and  became  the  perpetual  heritage  of  the  Danes. 

Another  interesting  monument  represents  an  old 
soldier  holding  a  little  boy  on  his  shoulder  while  the  boy 
blows   a  horn.     It  is   entitled  Den  lille  Eornhlaeser. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  195 

Isn't  that  great;  and  doesn't  the  tender,  affectionate, 
kitten-stroking  tone  get  into  your  voice  involuntarily 
when  you  say  it?  On  the  Holmens-Kanal,  which,  by 
the  way,  is  a  street,  there  is  a  statue  to  Niels  Juel,  who 
led  the  Danes  to  a  great  victory  against  the  Swedes  two 
and  a  half  centuries  ago.  The  statue  is  made  from  the 
guns  of  Ivar  Hvitfeld's  frigate,  Danebrog,  which  Ivar 
blew  up  in  Kjoge  Bay  to  save  the  rest  of  the  fleet.  It 
hardly  seems  fair  that  Ivar's  guns  should  have  been 
used  to  build  a  statue  to  Niels,  but  such  is  the  case. 

The  most  unique  statue  I  have  ever  seen  stands  in  the 
museum, and  formerly  stood  in"  Gray  Brothers'  Square." 
It  is  called  Skamstotte,  or  "Pillar  of  Shame,"  and  bears 
the  inscription  "To  the  eternal  shame  and  disgrace  of 
Corfitz  Ulfeldt,  the  traitor." 

It  would  take  more  stationery  than  I  have  in  stock  to 
tell  you  of  all  the  statues  and  fountains  there  are  in  this 
city.  They  must  number  well  up  into  the  hundreds. 
If  anybody  in  Denmark  says  something  clever,  or  if  he 
is  good-looking,  or  if  he  can  write  a  readable  book,  or  if 
he  can  cure  somebody  of  appendicitis,  they  put  up  a 
monument  to  him. 

The  Danes  are  geat  lovers  of  royalty,  and  intensely 
loyal  to  their  kings,  though  some  of  them  have  tried 
their  subjects'  loyalty  to  the  utmost.  Danish  kingship 
wasi,in  the  past  a  "despotism  tempered  by  sentiment," 
as  F.  M.  Buthn  says.  Some  centuries  ago,  during  the 
reign  of  Frederick  V,  it  was  said  that  "If  the  citizens 
of  the  capital  had  left  off  thrusting  their  heads  out  of 
their  windows  and  shouting  'Skaal  Kong  Christian/ 


196        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

OUT  absolute  monarch  would  have  felt  unhappy."  I  hope 
I  shall  not  be  arrested  for  lese  majeste  if  I  remark  that 
their  last  king,  Frederick  VIH,  was  a  very  dissipated 
man.  As  you  doubtless  remember,  he  died  mysteriously 
some  time  ago  while  sojourning  incognito  in  Hamburg. 
However,  their  present  king,  Christian  X,  is  an  excellent 
monarch  and  much  beloved  by  all.  It  is  said  that  on 
hearing  of  his  father's  death  he  immediately  took  the 
Holy  Communion,  as  an  indication  of  his  desire  to  be  a 
Christian  in  fact  as  well  as  in  name. 

This  king  and  many  of  his  relatives  now  live  in  the 
foxir  palaces  on  AmaHenborg-Plads.  I  had  the  luck  to 
be  in  this  plods  the  other  day  at  just  twelve  o'clock 
when  the  guard  changed.  It  was  a  very  pompous  cere- 
mony. The  Danebrog  was  much  in  evidence,  and  the 
immense,  black-plimied  helmets  of  the  soldiers  added 
greatly  to  the  solemnity  of  the  occasion. 

Perhaps  you  are  weary  enough  of  sightseeing  by  this 
time  to  come  back  with  me  and  sample  Danish  smorre- 
brod  at  Wivel's  restaurant,  which  is  the  most  famous  in 
the  city.  This  is  a  sort  of  attachment  to  Tivoli,  and 
while  your  mouth  is  watering  for  smorrehrod  I  must 
describe  Tivoli.  It  is  considered  the  finest  amusement 
park  in  Europe.  It  is  not  nearly  as  big  as  some  others, 
but  it  is  a  model  of  its  kind.  The  Copenhageners  are 
not  an  idle  people,  but  they  love  to  amuse  themselves. 
Amusement  and  relaxation,  sheer  and  simple,  Tivoli 
offers  them.  On  holidays  and  anniversaries  there  is  a 
most  wonderful  illumination. 

In  "Economics  i"  at  college  I  remember  learning 


Watch  Parade  in  Amalienborg  Square. 


The  Splendor  of  Tivoli  on  a  Gala  Night  in  Summer. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  197 

with  great  struggles  some  horrible  fabrications  called 
Jcvons^  Criteria,  Well,  the  author  of  that  outrage, 
Professor  Stanley  Jevons  himself,  writes  this  about 
Tivoli  in  his  "Essays  on  Social  Reform": 

"The  Tivoli  pleasure  gardens  form  the  best  possible 
model  of  popular  recreation.  Englishmen  think  of 
Denmark  only  as  a  very  little  nation.  But  though  small 
in  quantity  Denmark  shames  us  in  quality.  .  .  .  But 
my  Danish  friends,  when  questioned  on  the  subject  [of 
their  country^s  superiority],  attributed  a  high  civilizing 
influence  to  the  Thorvaldsen  Museum  and  the  Tivoli 
Gardens  at  Copenhagen.  Of  course  our  magistrates 
could  not  permit  so  demoralizing  a  spectacle  as  ballet- 
dancing  in  the  open  air,  but  I  wish  they  could  see 
Froeken  Leontine  and  Fanny  Carey  dance  their  pas  de 
deux.  They  would  then  learn  that  among  a  truly  cul- 
tured and  well-governed  people  dancing  may  be  as 
chaste  as  it  is  a  beautiful  performance.  Compared 
with  our  Crystal  Palace  or  Alexandra  Palace,  TivoH  is 
a  very  minor  affair;  but  civilization  is  not  a  question  of 
magnitude,  and  in  spite  of  its  comparatively  small  size 
Tivoli  is  a  model  of  good  taste  and  decency,  and 
indicates  the  way  in  which,  under  good  regulations,  all 
classes  may  be  induced  to  mingle." 
Butlin,  in  quoting  the  same  passage,  says: 
"It  must  not  be  supposed  that  TivoU  is  a  kind  of 
garden  'settlement,'  where  classes  mix  with  the  con- 
scious intention  of  civilizing  and  being  civilized.  We 
are  rather  inclined  to  suspect  that  Professor  Jevons' 
Danish  friends  were  wily  Danes  who  knew  that  civiliz- 


198        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

ing  influence  was  the  right  kind  of  bait  with  which  to 
lure  a  social  refonner  within  the  Tivoli  walls,  and  that 
the  Professor,  having  enjoyed  his  evening  there,  as  he 
evidently  did,  felt  called  upon  to  justify  his  enjoyment 
by  an  analysis  of  its  civilizing  influence." 

Well,  Judicia,  I  have  kept  you  waiting  for  that 
smorrebrod  for  some  time  while  I  quoted  the  authorities 
on  Tivoli.  When  the  smorrebrod  finally  arrives,  it  looks 
like  the  most  vivid  of  patchwork  quilts.  It  consists  of 
various  pieces  of  bread  and  butter  "smeared"  with  all 
sorts  of  substances  of  all  sorts  of  colors.  There  are  slabs 
of  ultramarine  and  ultraviolet,  lake,  mauve,  puce,  yel- 
low ochre,  carmine,  buff,  drab,  gray-green,  black,  orange, 
scarlet,  and  everything  else.  In  smorrebrod  you  find  all 
the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  and  many  others  which  have 
not  yet  been  catalogued.  These  colors,  when  analyzed, 
are  found  to  consist  of  all  sorts  of  meats,  fish,  hard- 
boiled  eggs,  and  parti-colored  salads.  If  you  have  a 
grain  of  progressive  originality  in  you,  you  will  like 
Sfnorrebrod.  Smor  actually  means  "butter,"  but  I  am 
sure  that  our  word  "smear"  is  a  lineal  descendant,  and 
I  prefer  to  translate  smorrebrod  into  "smeared  bread." 

The  Danes  are  famous  for  their  dairy  products  and 
particularly  for  their  butter.  Don't  you  remember  in 
far-off  Sidon  in  Syria  we  had  for  dinner  one  day,  as  a 
special  treat,  a  little  can  of  Danish  butter?  While  I  am 
on  the  subject  of  food,  let  me  tell  you  of  one  custom 
Copenhagen  has  which  New  York  ought  to  copy.  The 
fishermen  bring  in  their  fish,  alive,  in  great  tanks  inside 
the  ship,  and  when  they  reach  the  city  these  fish  are 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  199 

transferred,  still  alive,  to  portable  tanks,  and  peddlers 
then  wheel  them  all  over  the  city.  The  customer  picks 
out  his  fish  and  the  victim  is  harpooned  and  killed  and 
delivered  on  the  spot.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
Copenhageners  have  fresh  fish. 

I  have  scarcely  begun  to  tell  you  about  this  city  yet, 
but  I  think  I  will  give  you  a  rest.  When  I  get  time  to 
write  again  I  shall  tell  you  something  about  some  of 
Denmark's  celebrities,  such  as  Thorvaldsen,  and  Hans 
Christian  Andersen,  and  Hamlet.  I  am  afraid  this  last 
gentleman  is  an  invention  of  Saxo  Grammaticus  and 
Shakespeare,  but  he  is  interesting  nevertheless.  Alors, 
au  revoir. 

Yours  as  ever, 
Aylmer. 


THIRD  LETTER 

Written  on  the  train  between  Helsingor  and  Christiania.  A  little 
geography;  who's  who  in  Denmark;  Bertel  Thorvaldsen  and  the 
Thorvaldsen  Museum ;  Hans  Christian  Andersen ;  his  experience 
with  the  "danseuse"  of  the  Royal  Theater;  the  final  fulfillment 
of  the  gypsy  woman's  prophecy ;  Frederiksborg ;  some  "cute" 
tricks  of  Norse  nobility  in  the  past;  Elsinore  and  **  Prince  Am- 
leth  " ;  the  "  Norges  Communicationer." 

En  route,    Helsingor  to  Christiania,  December  24. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  am  in  Sweden  now,  and  in  spite  of  a  troubled  con- 
science I  am  enjoying  my  view  from  the  car  window.  I 
suppose  I  ought  not  to  allow  myself  to  enjoy  Sweden, 
as  that  is  Phillips'  country,  and  honor  should  compel 
me  to  find  fault  with  it.  The  country  is  really  beauti- 
ful, with  its  long,  rolling  expanse  of  snow-covered  land 
on  one  side  and  the  Kattegat  and  Skager-Rack  shaking 
hands  on  the  other.  However,  I  comfort  myself  and 
soothe  my  conscience  by  remembering  that  this  part  of 
Sweden  is  between  Norway  and  Denmark,  and  with 
two  such  neighbors  it  could  hardly  be  entirely  without 
charm.  The  train  was  ferried  across  from  Helsingor 
to  Helsingborg,  and  we  are  now  speeding  along  close  to 
the  Kattegat. 

!  I  am  not  forgetting  that  I  left  you  in  my  last  letter 
with  the  promise  to  tell  you  something  about  Den- 
mark's celebrities,  but  first  I  must  treat  you  as  a  school- 


NORWAY  AND   DENMARK  201 

girl  and  tell  you  about  the  geography  of  this  little  coun- 
try. Tell  me,  Judicia,  how  many  principal  islands  are 
there  in  Denmark,  and  what  are  their  names?  What  is 
Jutland?  What  is  the  difference  between  the  Kattegat 
and  the  Skager-Rack?  I  am  so  sure  that  you  don't 
exactly  know  the  answers  to  these  abstruse  problems 
(any  niore  than  I  did  two  months  ago)  that  I  am  going 
to  take  the  liberty  of  telling  you. 

Jutland  has  earned  its  name,  for  it  juts  out  into  the 
North  Sea  and  separates  the  Skager-Rack  on  the  north- 
west from  the  Kattegat  on  the  southeast,  and  it  also 
looks  like  a  sort  of  wedge  thrust  into  the  crevice  between 
the  two  halves  of  the  dividing  Scandinavian  peninsula. 
I  am  afraid  the  etymologist  would  say  that  it  earned  its 
name  more  from  being  the  home  of  the  Jutes  than  from 
its  geographical  propensity  of  "jutting."  It  is  a  sandy 
peninsula,  and  boasts  only  one  hill,  which  is  made  much 
of  by  the  Danes.  Schleswig-Holstein,  as  of  course  you 
know,  should  properly  belong  to  Jutland  and  to  the 
Danes.  It  is  unmistakably  a  part  of  Denmark  geo- 
graphically and  ethnographically,  but  the  great  and 
greedy  Bismarck  thought  it  would  be  a  choice  morsel 
to  add  to  Germany,  and,  not  being  troubled  by  a  very 
tender  diplomatic  conscience,  he  contrived  to  snatch  it 
from  poor  little  helpless  Denmark.  That  was  long  ago, 
but  the  Danes  still  bristle  at  the  name  of  Bismarck. 

East  of  Jutland  He  Denmark's  three  large  islands  — 
Fyen,  Zealand,  and  Lapland — and  her  countless  smaller 
ones.  If  you  will  take  the  trouble  to  look  at  the  map 
I  suppose  you  can  picture  Denmark's  geography  in 


202         THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

your  mind  even  more  clearly  than  by  reading  my  lucid 
and  detailed  description. 

At  this  minute  I  am  sure  you  are  thinking  of  Bertel 
Thorvalsden,  for  he  is  sure  to  come  first  into  your  mind 
when  you  begin  to  inquire  who's  who.  You  remember 
I  quoted  Professor  Jevons  as  ranking  the  Thorvaldsen 
Museum  even  as  high  as  TivoU,  as  a  civilizing  influence. 
That  is  rather  hard  though  on  the  museum,  for  this  is 
really  one  of  the  world's  famous  monuments.  It  stands 
in  the  very  front  rank  of  museums.  Moreover  it  is 
unique  in  being  the  work  of  and  the  monument  to  one 
single  man,  the  greatest  artist-genius  of  the  north. 
Really  I  am  amazed  at  the  greatness  of  Thorvaldsen. 
I  have  heard  about  him  since  I  was  in  kindergarten, 
but  I  was  struck  anew  by  the  greatness  of  his  genius 
when  I  visited  Copenhagen.  He  was  the  son  of  an  Ice- 
land ship's  carpenter,  and  the  poorest  of  the  poor.  He 
was  born  at  sea  between  Iceland  and  Copenhagen,  and 
through  all  the  early  years  of  his  life  he  assisted  his 
father  in  his  business.  Those  who  know  declare  him 
the  greatest  classical  sculptor  of  modem  times. 

The  museum  has  the  appearance  of  a  huge  tomb,  and 
is  anything  but  attractive  from  the  outside.  Inside  is  a 
mighty  collection  of  the  sculptor's  work.  Many  of  the 
originals  are  here,  and  plaster  models  represent  the  rest. 
Among  these  models  are  two  of  his  greatest  works,  the 
Lion  of  Lucerne,  and  the  statue  of  Christ,  which  stands 
in  the  Frue  Kirke.  As  I  had  seen  the  originals  of  both 
of  these,  I  was  not  so  thrilled  by  the  plaster  models. 
Inside,  in  a  courtyard,  is  the  sculptor's  grave,  and  it 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  203 

must  be  comforting  to  him  to  have  his  own  beloved 
creations  looking  down  upon  his  grave.  Outside,  all 
around  the  wall,  are  frescoes  representing  Thorvaldsen's 
triumphant  return  from  Rome  in  1838.  Hans  Chris- 
tian Andersen  says  of  this  home-coming:  "It  was  a 
national  festival;  boats,  decorated  with  flowers  and 
flags,  passed  backward  and  forward  between  LangeHnie 
and  Trekoner.  Joyous  shouts  were  heard  from  the 
shore,  where  the  people  harnessed  themselves  to  Thor- 
valdsen's carriage  and  dragged  it  through  Amalienborg 
to  his  dwelling." 

Thorvaldsen  did  not  achieve  this  distinction,  however, 
without  a  hard,  discouraging,  up-hill  climb.  He  went 
to  Rome  to  study  first  in  1796,  and  he  labored  so  ob- 
scurely that  even  his  friends  lost  faith  in  his  talent.  He 
could  not  afford  to  buy  plaster  of  Paris,  so  he  made 
from  clay  a  model  of  Jason,  which  quickly  fell  to  pieces. 
A  second  model  failed  to  find  a  purchaser,  and  discour- 
aged and  heartbroken  he  prepared  to  sail  for  Denmark, 
when  Thomas  Hope,  a  wealthy  Enghsh  banker,  justified 
nature  in  the  bestowal  of  his  surname  by  asking  Thor- 
valdsen to  reproduce  in  marble  his  statue  of  Jason. 
From  this  point  the  sculptor's  ambition  revived,  and  in 
a  few  years  he  was  hailed  far  and  wide  as  the  greatest 
living  master  of  his  profession. 

Andersen's  autobiography  contains  many  interesting 
bits  about  his  friend  Thorvaldsen.  On  his  seventy- 
third  birthday,  and  his  last,  the  sculptor  was  greeted 
very  early  in  the  morning  by  a  throng  of  friends  who 
were  celebrating  the  day  by  the  use  of  "gongs,  fire 


204        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

tongs,  flasks,  knives,"  and  other  noisy  implements. 
The  old  man  threw  on  a  dressing  gown  and  slippers,  and 
thus  attired  danced  out  of  his  bedroom  and  joined  the 
hilarity.  A  few  months  later  he  died,  and  the  news 
caused  a  whole  nation  to  go  into  mourning. 

But  Hans  Christian  Andersen,  the  children's  poet, 
survived  him.  Andersen  is  to-day  one  of  the  best  be- 
loved writers  in  the  world,  as  you  will  not  hesitate  to 
admit,  Judicia.  I  am  positive  that  Phillips  can't  refer 
you  to  any  Swedish  author  who  is  half  as  much  loved, 
at  least  by  people  outside  of  his  own  land.  One  writer 
whose  book  I  have  recently  read  refers  to  this  author  as 
"H.  C.  Andersen."  Doesn't  that  strike  you  as  almost 
a  sacrilege?  Hans  Christian  Andersen  is  in  a  class  by 
himself,  and  he  ought  to  be  called  Hans  Christian  and 
not  H.  C.  His  fairy  tales  lose  half  their  charm  if  we 
discover  that  the  author  is  only  H.  C.  Andersen.  Hans 
Christian  Andersen  by  any  other  name  would  not  — 
well,  he  would  not  be  as  fragrant  —  I  am  getting 
involved  here. 

He  was  born  in  Odense,  on  the  island  of  Fyen.  Right 
here  let  me  say  that  this  town  of  Odense  is  not  named 
for  the  much-advertised  five-cent  cigar,  but  for  Odin, 
the  same  old  god  who  gave  us  our  name  for  the  fourth 
day  in  the  week.  Hans  was  the  son  of  a  cobbler,  and 
he  spent  the  earliest  years  of  his  life,  or  parts  of  them, 
in  a  crib  fashioned  from  a  nobleman's  coffin,  on  which 
tatters  of  black  cloth  continued  to  hang.  His  mother 
wanted  him  to  become  a  tailor,  and  he  would  perhaps 
have  fulfilled  her  wish  if  a  gypsy  wise-woman  had  not 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  205 

chanced  to  cross  his  path  and  prophesy  that  Hans 
would  some  day  become  a  great  man.  His  parents  be- 
lieved the  prophecy,  and  later  their  faith  in  the  gypsy 
woman  was  justified. 

Even  as  a  boy  Hans  was  in  love  with  the  drama.  He 
could  scrape  up  money  enough  to  go  to  the  theater  only 
once  a  year,  but  the  rest  of  the  time  he  would  get  hold 
of  the  bill  and  imagine  the  whole  play  for  himself.  His 
introduction  to  dramatic  society  was  most  pathetic. 
An  old  bookseller  in  Odense  gave  him  an  introduction 
to  a  danseuse  at  the  Royal  Theater  at  Copenhagen. 
Poor  little  Hans  was  frightened  almost  out  of  his  wits 
when  he  met  the  lady  dancer.  He  was  "candidating," 
as  it  were,  and  the  meeting  was  very  critical.  He  was 
so  nervous  that  everything  went  wrong.  His  hat  was 
too  big  for  him,  and,  as  he  forgot  to  take  it  ofif,  it  fell 
over  his  ears.  His  new,  confirmation  shoes  creaked, 
and  he  was  forced  to  "ask  his  hostess^  permission  to 
remove  them,  that  he  might  be  able  to  dance  with  more 
grace."  The  pecuHarity  of  this  request,  combined  with 
the  strange  gestures  he  made,  frightened  the  poor  dan- 
seuse. She  thought  he  was  mad,  and  escaped  under  a 
pretext.  Poor  Hans,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  as 
utterly  miserable  as  possible,  hurried  away.  Yet  he  had 
inborn  genius,  and,  like  a  city  that  is  set  on  a  hill,  it 
could  not  be  hid.  A  few  years  later  he  was  received  in 
his  native  town  as  a  hero.  The  city  was  illuminated; 
the  bishop  met  him  at  the  station;  the  school  children 
had  a  whole  hoHday;  he  received  a  congratulatory  tele- 
gram from  the  king,  and  the  man  whom  all  Denmark 


2o6        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

delighted  to  honor  says:  "I  felt  as  humble  and  small  as 
if  I  stood  before  my  God.  It  was  as  if  every  weakness, 
fault,  and  sin  in  thought,  word,  and  deed  was  brought 
home  to  me."  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  had  about  as  few 
faults  and  sins  as  it  would  be  possible  to  have  and  still 
be  human,  and  his  one  weakness  was  a  too  great  sensi- 
tiveness. 

He  tells  of  how  on  one  occasion  he  was  anxious  to 
obtain  a  traveling  scholarship,  and  he  also  had  a  book 
of  poems  which  he  wished  to  present  to  the  king,  Frede- 
rick VI.  His  friends,  being  versed  in  the  ways  of  the 
world,  advised  him  to  present  his  book  at  the  same  time 
he  made  his  request  for  the  scholarship.  The  same 
principle  was  of  course  involved  as  that  which  to-day 
implies  that  the  giver  of  compliments  has  a  request  to 
follow.  Well,  such  a  proceeding  seemed  to  the  sensitive 
Hans  as  verging  on  dishonesty,  and  he  was  troubled  to 
know  what  to  do.  He  thus  describes  his  interview  with 
the  king: 

"I  must  have  looked  to  the  king  extremely  fimny  as 
I  entered  the  room,  for  my  heart  was  beating  fast  with 
anxiety.  When  the  king  came  toward  me  in  the  quick 
way  he  had,  and  asked  me  what  kind  of  a  book  I  had 
brought  him,  I  answered:  'A  cycle  of  poems,  your 
Majesty.'  Xycle,  Cycle!  what  do  you  mean?'  Then  I 
lost  heart  and  said:  'It  is  some  verses  on  Denmark.' 
He  smiled.  'Well,  well,  that  is  all  right;  thanks,  thanks,' 
and  he  bowed  a  dismissal.  But  I,  who  had  not  even 
begun  my  real  errand,  explained  that  I  had  much  still 
to  say,  and  then  I  told  him  about  my  studies,  and  how 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  207 

I  had  got  through  them.  'That  is  very  praiseworthy/ 
said  the  king,  and  when  I  came  to  the  point  of  my  wish 
for  a  scholarship  he  answered,  as  they  had  told  me  he 
would:  'Very  well,  then  bring  an  application.'  'Yes, 
your  Majesty,'  I  burst  out,  all  my  self-consciousness 
gone,  'I  have  it  here  with  me,  and  it  seems  so  dreadful 
to  me  that  I  should  bring  it  with  the  book.  I  have  been 
told  to  do  so,  as  it  is  the  custom,  but  I  think  it  is  horrid. 
I  do  hate  it  so.'  My  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  The  good 
king  laughed  right  out,  nodded  kindly,  and  took  the 
appHcation  form." 

This  bashful,  timid  Hans  was  really  a  wonderful  man. 
He  could  take  an  old  bottle  or  a  piece  of  string  or  a  barn- 
yard hen  and  make  a  story  out  of  it  that  the  world,  par- 
ticularly the  child's  world,  will  not  willingly  let  die. 
Did  you  know  that  he  invented  the  mission  of  the  stork, 
and  that  every  time  Life  or  Judge  gets  off  a  joke  in 
which  a  stork  figures  they  have  Hans  Christian  Ander- 
sen to  thank  for  the  idea? 

Part  of  Andersen's  life  was  spent  as  a  student  at 
Elsinore  or  Helsingor,  and  so  I  think  I  will  tear  myself 
away  from  Copenhagen  and  go  up  to  see  the  sights  of 
northern  Zealand.  Before  I  tell  you  about  Helsingor  I 
must  mention  some  of  these  castles  of  North  Zealand. 
The  island  swarms  with  them,  but  the  most  interesting 
are  Kronborg,  Fredensborg,  and  Frederiksborg.  In 
Kronborg,  Holger  Danske  sits  in  confinement,  and  must 
remain  there  until  the  end  of  time.  "He  is  clad  in  iron 
and  steel,  and  rests  his  head  upon  his  strong  arms;  his 
long  beard  hangs  out  over  the  marble  table  where  it  has 


2o8        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

grown  fast.  He  sleeps  and  dreams  in  his  dreams  that  he 
sees  all  that  is  happening  above  in  Denmark.  Every 
Christmas  evening  one  of  God's  angels  comes  to  tell  him 
that  it  is  right  what  he  has  dreamt,  and  that  he  may 
sleep  again,  for  no  danger  out  of  the  ordinary  is  threaten- 
ing Denmark." 

Fredensborg  Castle,  a  few  miles  south,  is  the  place 
where  the  clans  gather  for  the  annual  Thanksgiving 
dinner.  Perhaps  they  don't  call  it  by  that  name,  and 
perhaps  the  gathering  isn't  annual,  but  at  least  it  is 
true  that  now  and  then  the  whole  royal  family  of  Den- 
mark gathers  together  here  in  Fredensborg.  As  you 
know,  the  royal  family  of  Denmark  includes  the  King 
of  Greece,  Queen  Alexandra,  the  Czarina  of  Russia,  the 
King  of  Norway,  and  numerous  princes  and  princesses. 
The  name  Fredensborg  means  "Castle  of  Peace"  and 
the  castle  was  built  a  century  ago  to  commemorate  the 
peace  between  Denmark  and  Sweden. 

Frederiksborg  I  am  sure  I  have  mentioned  before  as 
the  joint  product  of  Christian  IV  and  Brewer  Jacob- 
sen,  who  have  given  us  one  of  the  most  interesting  and 
valuable  historical  museums  in  the  world.  Here  are  all 
the  old  heroes  and  heroines  of  Denmark,  as  well  as  all 
the  sculptors  and  story-tellers  and  doctors  and  inventors 
and  philosophers  and  musicians  and  merchants.  Here, 
in  short,  you  can  find  a  collection  of  who's  who  in  Den- 
mark, or  rather  of  who  has  been  who  in  the  past.  You 
could  spend  a  week  here  studying  these  different  ce- 
lebrities and  the  stories  connected  with  them.  In  the 
room  called  the  Council  Chamber  is  a  colossal  portrait 


W) 


u 

r 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  209 

of  all  the  Danish  royalties  who  were  alive  in  1886.  There 
are  no  less  than  thirty-two  persons  in  the  picture,  and 
the  artist  thought  nothing  of  tucking  away  eight  or  ten 
royal  children  in  one  corner. 

In  another  room  the  most  celebrated  of  the  ancients 
are  collected,  among  them  Gorm  the  Old,  Canute  the 
Great,  who  as  you  know  was  the  king  that  could  not  be 
flattered,  and  Thyra  Danebod.  This  Thyra  is  not  so 
well  known  as  the  other  two,  but  she  was  an  interesting 
old  shrew.  I  am  not  positive  of  her  identity,  as  names 
were  repeated  so  much  in  the  old  days,  but  I  think  she 
was  sister  of  Sweyn  Forkbeard,  king  of  Denmark  at  the 
end  of  the  tenth  century.  Whether  or  not  my  guess  is 
correct,  I  want  to  tell  you  a  Httle  about  this  Thyra.  She 
was  a  spoiled  child,  and  wanted  to  be  married  to  as  many 
kings  as  possible.  At  least  two  kings,  Burislav  the  Wend 
and  Olaf  Tryggvesson  the  Norwegian,  claimed  her  at  the 
same  time  as  lawful  wife,  or  rather  she  claimed  them. 
She  positively  bullied  Olaf  into  marrying  her  because 
she  had  had  a  tiff  with  Burislav.  But  Olaf  could  not 
please  her.  One  day,  a  Palm  Sunday,  he  bought  her 
some  spring  vegetables  as  a  special  treat.  She  threw 
them  in  his  face,  remarking  that  her  father,  Harald 
Bluetooth,  had  given  her  a  better  present  than  that 
when  she  got  her  first  tooth;  what  she  wanted  was  land 
and  revenue.  She  pestered  him  so  continually  that 
finally,  for  the  sake  of  domestic  peace,  he  started  on  a 
piratical  expedition.  He  gained  no  land  and  lost  his 
Hfe,  whereupon  Thyra  retrieved  herself  somewhat  by 
dying  nine  days  later  of  a  broken  heart. 


210        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

In  another  room  there  are  many  pictures  of  different 
events  of  Danish  history.  One  portrays  the  foul  murder 
of  Erik  Clipping,  son  of  Erik  Plowpenny.  His  only 
fault  was  that  he  happened  to  be  king  of  Denmark. 
Another  picture  shows  the  great  Valdemar  Atterdag, 
whose  mission  in  life  was  to  regain  the  territory  which 
his  father  had  pawned.  This  Valdemar  Atterdag,  by 
the  way,  was  not  particularly  gentle  in  his  estimate  of 
human  life. 

However,  killing  people,  particularly  sons  or  defence- 
less children,  was  the  favorite  sport  of  some  of  the  old 
kings  and  queens.  Christina,  mistress  of  Haakon  Galen, 
an  aspirant  to  the  throne  of  Norway,  one  day  took  in 
her  lap  a  little  boy  named  Guttorm  Siggurdsson,  who 
happened  to  be  the  legitimate  heir  to  the  throne.  She 
stroked  the  child  lovingly  over  his  whole  body,  and  soon 
after  little  Guttorm  complained  that  needles  were 
sticking  into  him  all  over.  After  a  few  minutes  he  died 
in  great  agony.  Haakon  Galen  was  immensely  amused. 
He  kissed  his  mistress  and  soon  after  rewarded  her  by 
actually  making  her  his  wife. 

I  seem  to  be  getting  into  a  morbid  strain,  but  for- 
tunately there  are  many  noble  and  cheerful  tales  which 
the  history  of  Denmark  and  Norway  affords.  When  I 
get  time  I  will  write  you  more  about  these.  We  are 
fast  approaching  Komsjo,  where,  since  it  is  on  Nor- 
wegian soil,  I  can  lawfully  begin  to  take  an  interest  in 
the  scenery.  But  before  we  get  there  I  must  tell  you 
something  about  Helsingor,  for  that  is  as  well  known  to 
foreigners,  thanks  to  Mr.  Shakespeare,  as  any  spot  in 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  211 

Denmark.  The  statue  of  Saxo  Grammaticus,  who 
originally  wrote  of  "Prince  Amleth,"  is  made  to  wear 
an  amused  smile,  as  if  he  did  not  take  himself  or  the 
story  of  Hamlet  quite  seriously.  The  following  quota- 
tion from  Horace  Marryat  will  show  you  the  source  of 
some  doubts: 

"Hans  Andersen  assured  me  that  it  [Hamlet's  grave] 
did  not  exist.  In  the  good  old  times,  when  Sound  duties 
still  were,  and  myriads  of  ships  stopped  at  Elsinore  to 
pay  their  dues  and  be  plundered  by  the  inhabitants, 
each  fresh  English  sailor,  on  his  first  arrival,  demanded 
to  be  conducted  to  the  tomb  of  Hamlet.  Now,  on  the 
outside  of  the  town,  by  the  Strandvej,  in  the  garden  of 
a  resident  merchant,  stood  or  still  stands  a  hoi  or  barrow, 
one  of  the  twenty  thousand  which  are  scattered  so 
plentifully  over  the  Danish  domains.  This  barrow,  to 
the  great  annoyance  of  its  owner,  was  settled  upon  as  a 
fitting  resting  place  for  Shakespeare's  hero.  Worried 
and  tormented  by  the  numerous  visitors  who  allowed 
him  no  peace,  he,  at  his  own  expense,  erected  this  monu- 
ment in  the  pubUc  garden  of  Marienlyst,  caused  it  to  be 
surmounted  by  a  cross  and  a  half-erased  inscription, 
fixing  the  date  of  Hamlet's  death  the  3  2d  of  October, 
Old  Style,  the  year  a  blank.  Admirably,  too,  it  suc- 
ceeded. The  British  pubUc  was  content,  and  the 
worthy  merchant  was  allowed  to  smoke  his  pipe  in  peace 
under  the  grateful  shade  of  his  veranda." 

ButUn  says  of  his  first  visit  to  Denmark  that  on  in- 
quiring for  Hamlet's  grave  he  was  told  by  a  sarcastic 
Dane  —  the  time  being  early  autumn  —  that  it  was  not 


212        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

usually  built  up  before  the  spring,  in  time  for  English 
and  American  tourists  to  carry  it  away  in  chopped-off 
morsels  during  the  simimer. 

As  to  Elsinore,  that  is  an  interesting  place,  with  or 
without  the  actual  grave  of  Hamlet.  It  is  the  scene  of 
more  historical  events,  connected  with  Norway,  than 
almost  any  other  place  in  Denmark.  You  remember 
that  Marryat  refers  to  the  fact  that  it  collected  tolls 
from  all  the  ships  that  passed  through  the  Sound;  and 
think  of  the  nerve  of  it  —  it  continued  to  do  so  even 
after  Sweden  had  won  the  opposite  coast  of  Skaane. 
All  the  nations  concerned  finally  clubbed  together  and 
gave  little  Elsinore  an  inamense  ransom  ag  token  of 
future  exemption  from  duty. 

I  have  just  discovered  by  referring  to  my  Norges 
Communicationer  that  we  are  due  in  Kornsjo  in  twenty 
minutes,  so  I  shall  soon  be  taking  in  the  delights  of  Nor- 
way. As  to  this  Norges  Communicationer,  let  me  tell 
you  what  an  absurd  system  of  time-tables  they  have 
here.  This  foolish  Communicationer  is  published  every 
week  and  costs  thirty  ore  (about  eight  cents).  This 
week's  edition  has  one  hundred  and  eighty-four  big 
pages,  and  a  whole  year's  edition  takes  up  actually 
ahnost  as  much  room  as  the  new  Encyclopedia  Brittan- 
ica.  By  subscribing  to  this  very  interesting  weekly 
magazine  you  can  get  it  for  about  a  dollar  per  quarter, 
and  less  than  two  dollars  and  a  half  for  the  entire  year. 
Think  of  that!  The  price  includes  postage,  too.  Oh, 
it's  a  shame  to  pay  so  little;  therefore  I  think  I  won't 
subscribe. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  213 

I  don^t  know  when  I  shall  have  time  to  write  again. 
I  am  planning  to  go  to  Bergen  in  a  few  days  and  take 
from  there  one  of  the  Bergenske  and  Nordenfjeldske 
Dampskibsselskab  boats  up  along  the  coast.  Every  one 
has  taken  this  trip  in  summer,  when  the  country  is  look- 
ing for  tourists  all  along  the  line,  but  I  want  to  see  the 
country  out  of  season,  and  so  I  am  planning  to  visit  it  in 
winter,  regardless  of  warnings  about  the  gloomy,  per- 
petual night. 

I  shall  write  to  you  from  somewhere,  sometime. 

As  always, 
Aylmer. 


FOURTH  LETTER 

The  color  scheme  of  a  Norwegian  winter  night;  a  trip  up  the  coast; 
the  "Maiden  of  Leko"  and  Torg's  Hat;  the  home  of  Haarek  re- 
mind us  of  the  early  methods  of  introducing  Christianity  into  Nor- 
way; Thangbrand,  the  ferocious  Saxon  priest;  Olaf  Tryggvesson; 
some  interesting  sights  en  route  for  the  Lof otens ;  the  Maelstrom 
and  Pontoppidan's  sea  serpent;  the  great  Lofoten  fisheries;  the 
long  war  between  cod  and  herring;  sea  life  in  the  Lof  otens; 
approach  to  Narvik;  certain  Norwegian  characteristics. 

Narvik,  Norwegiajj  Lapland,  January  12. 
N.  Lat.  68°  30':  E.  Long.  17°  30'  (circa). 

My  dear  Judicia, 

I  would  just  as  soon  wager  that  you  never  heard  of 
Narvik  before,  and  that  you  don't  know  any  more  of 
its  whereabouts  than  the  heading  of  this  letter  tells  you. 
I  am  basing  my  wager  on  the  assumption  that  your 
knowledge  of  Norway  is  just  about  as  extensive  as  mine 
was  before  I  came  here.  Well,  I  cannot  blame  you  much 
for  your  ignorance  (if  ignorant  you  are),  for  Narvik  is  a 
very  young  thing.  It  was  bom  on  January  i,  1902,  but 
it  is  fast  getting  to  be  one  of  the  important  towns  of  this 
coimtry,  thanks  to  the  iron  hills  of  Lapland.  However, 
I  mustn't  tell  you  about  Narvik  before  you  get  there. 
First  I  will  ask  you  to  go  up  along  the  coast  with  me  by 
steamer  and  get  something  of  the  unconscious  spell  of 
northern  Norway  in  winter,  when  it  doesn't  suspect  that 
it  is  showing  off. 

I  decided  to  come  to  Trondhjem  by  rail  instead  of  by 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  215 

steamer,  so  I  hunted  things  up  in  my  Norges  Commum- 
cationer  and  found  that  I  could  go  direct  from  Christi- 
ania  to  Trondhjem  in  sixteen  hours  and  there  take  one 
of  the  mail  boats  of  that  Dampskibsselskab  (I  love  to 
pronounce  that  word)  up  to  Narvik.  I  have  several 
thousand  things  to  tell  you  about  Christiania  and 
Trondhjem,  but  these  must  wait  until  later,  as  I  am 
planning  to  visit  these  cities  again.  In  this  letter  I  shall 
simply  tell  you  about  northern  Norway  in  the  cold, 
gloomy  winter,  which  is  really  neither  cold  nor  gloomy. 
It  is  wonderful,  this  Norwegian  winter.  The  whole 
country  does  not  realize  that  there  is  an  American  tour- 
ist north  of  Trondhjem,  and  if  it  did  realize,  it  wouldn't 
care,  for  it  is  attending  to  its  own  business.  I  get  the 
same  pleasure  out  of  seeing  this  tourist-ridden  country 
out  of  season  that  I  got  from  seeing  Oberammergau  in 
the  winter  of  1905,  when  the  natives  had  forgotten  the 
previous  decennial  Passion  Play  and  had  not  begun  to 
think  seriously  of  the  next. 

This  "awful,  uncanny  darkness'*  that  seems  to 
frighten  so  many  people  is  one  of  my  chief  delights.  On 
the  average  there  have  been  only  three  or  four  hours  a 
day  when  I  could  see  to  read  by  daylight,  but  the  twenty- 
hour  nights  have  been  anything  but  depressing  to  me. 
It  has  been  clear  weather  nearly  all  the  time,  and  there 
have  been  many  substitutes  for  Phoebus.  Even  when 
there  has  been  no  moon  and  no  northern  lights,  the  star- 
light has  usually  been  enough  to  bring  out  in  sharp 
relief  the  changing  outhne  of  mountains  and  rocky 
headlands.    But  much  of  the  time  the  stars  have  had 


2i6        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

assistance.  A  brand  new  moon  came  to  the  rescue  soon 
after  we  left  Trondhjem,  and  as  it  was  not  particularly 
bothered  by  the  blinding  sunlight  it  had  a  great  chance 
to  make  the  most  of  itself.  It  is  surprising  how  much 
light  even  a  very  new  moon  can  give  when  it  is  not  an- 
noyed or  forced  out  of  business  by  such  a  light  trust  as 
the  sun. 

Occasionally  the  aurora  borealis  has  come  to  lend  its 
very  gentle,  wavering  quota  of  illumination.  It  is  ex- 
tremely timid,  and  a  bright  moon  can  frighten  it  into 
retirement.  But  when  it  does  appear  it  is  the  most  be- 
witching of  phantoms.  It  is  always  restless,  always 
timid.  It  darts  a  long,  white  ray  up  to  the  zenith  and 
then  snatches  it  back  as  if  in  terror  lest  something  should 
seize  it  and  hold  it  fast.  Sometimes  it  is  as  if  a  dozen 
streamers  of  the  softest  phosphorescent  material  were 
blown  out  by  the  action  of  some  huge  electric  fans  at  the 
North  Pole.  The  scene  is  never  twice  alike,  even  when 
seen  from  the  same  point,  and  when  seen  from  the  deck 
of  a  httle  steamer,  winding  its  way  through  a  twisting, 
cUff-bound  channel,  the  variety  is  endless. 

But  the  finest  illumination  of  all  is  "under  foot."  AH 
the  way  from  Trondhjem  to  Narvik  we  sailed  through  a 
sea  of  phosphorus.  Imagine,  Judicia,  the  brightest 
firefly  or  glowworm  that  you  ever  saw,  and  then  picture 
several  hundred  of  them  together  in  a  compact  mass, 
and  you  will  have  some  idea  of  one  of  the  Httle  floating 
islands  of  phosphorus  through  which  we  passed.  I  saw 
some  of  these  greenish  light  globes  that  seemed  as  big 
as  a  grapefruit.    It  was  as  if  green  arc  lights  were  strewn 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  217 

about  promiscuously  through  this  whole  northern  sea. 
I  wish  Thomas  Edison  had  been  along  to  tell  me  how 
many  candle  power  one  of  these  arc  lights  possessed, 
but  I  am  sure  that  one  placed  in  a  dark  room  would  give 
light  enough  to  read  by.  This  is  not  a  fish  story,  Judicia. 
Really  you  cannot  imagine  what  a  brilliant,  watery- 
green  glow  these  Norwegian  phosphorus  lights  give. 

All  this  way  we  have  been  saiUng  on  an  inland  sea, 
so  to  speak.  The  whole  coast  from  Trondhjem  to  Ham- 
merfest,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  miles,  is  fringed 
with  a  belt  of  protecting  islands,  and  seasickness  is 
about  as  nearly  unknown  here  as  it  could  be  anywhere. 
The  boat  stopped  at  many  Kttle  fishing  stations  and  gave 
an  opportunity,  which  the  tourist  steamers  in  summer 
do  not  give,  to  see  real  Norwegian  life. 

About  eighty  miles  from  Trondhjem  we  pass  the 
island  of  Almenningen,  where  are  situated  the  quarries 
from  which  the  blue  chlorite  was  taken  to  build  the 
famous  Trondhjem  Cathedral.  From  there  on  we  begin 
to  get  into  the  famous  fishing  country,  though  we  do 
not  reach  the  center  of  the  industry  until  we  get  up  to 
the  Lofoten  Islands.  Norway,  as  every  one  knows,  is 
famous  for  its  fisheries.  Salmon  and  cod  and  herring 
and  sardines  are  caught  by  the  billion  and  sent  all  over 
the  world.  A  few  miles  beyond  Almenningen  we  see 
numerous  white  streaks  on  the  rocks,  which  the  wily 
fishermen  have  painted  there,  so  that  the  salmon  are 
fooled  into  thinking  them  their  favorite  waterfalls  and 
are  thus  lured  into  the  nets.  At  Brono,  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  Trondhjem,  a  herring  fleet  was 


2i8        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

stationed,  waiting  for  the  harvest.  This  herring  fishery 
is  conducted  in  a  most  scientific  way.  Scouts  keep  an 
eye  out  for  a  sildstim,  or  shoal  of  herring,  and  as  soon 
as  one  is  located  they  send  a  hurry  call  by  telegram  to 
the  nearest  fleet,  which  is  immediately  towed  to  the 
scene  of  action  by  tugboats.  Telegrams  are  also  sent  in 
all  directions  for  the  purpose  of  securing  a  supply  of 
barrels  and  salt. 

Much  more  interesting  than  this  are  the  cod  fisheries, 
which  were  increasingly  in  evidence  as  we  neared  the 
Lofotens;  but  I  will  tell  you  more  about  that  later. 

A  most  curious  rock  formation  marks  the  arctic 
circle,  for  directly  on  this  imaginary  line  is  a  petrified 
man  riding  a  petrified  horse.  A  little  to  the  north  is  a 
rock  called  the  "Maiden  of  Leko,"  and  near  by  are 
the  "Seven  Sisters  of  Alstahoug" — hard-featured,  raw- 
boned  girls,  each  about  four  thousand  feet  tall.  Be- 
tween the  seven  sisters  and  the  "Maiden  of  Leko," 
Torg's  Hat  lies  floating  on  the  sea — a  stone  hat,  eight 
hundred  feet  high,  pierced  by  a  four-hundred  foot  tim- 
nel.  Perhaps  you  will  be  interested,  as  I  was,  to  know 
how,  when,  and  why  these  various  people  and  Torg's 
headgear  got  here.  It  seems  that  once  the  devil's  young 
brother,  who  lived  in  this  neighborhood,  went  to  see  his 
seven  devilish  sisters.  During  the  visit  he  met  a  cou- 
sin, the  "Maiden  of  Leko,"  and  fell  in  love  with  her. 
Unfortunately  she  did  not  reciprocate.  The  devil's 
brother  then  smothered  his  love  in  rage,  mounted  his 
horse,  and  set  out  to  kill  the  maiden.  He  took  his  bow 
and  shot  an  arrow  at  her.    But  just  at  the  crucial  mo- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  219 

ment  Torg,  the  hero  of  the  story,  saw  the  danger  and 
threw  his  hat  at  the  arrow,  which  pierced  it  through, 
four  hundred  feet  (I'm  afraid  Torg  had  a  big  head), 
and  harmlessly  buried  itself  in  the  land  near  by.  At 
this  point  the  sun  rose  and  turned  everything  and  every- 
body to  stone.  The  dramatis  personcB  and  the  stage 
properties  continue  to  exist  through  all  these  centuries. 
The  devil's  brother  sits  on  his  charger  and  draws  his 
bow.  The  maiden  looks  longingly  for  Torg,  the  seven 
she-devils  look  on,  and  the  arrow  is  seen  sticking  into  a 
near-by  island  after  boring  its  immense  tunnel  through 
Torg's  Hat.  This  last  is  a  truly  wonderful  phenom- 
enon, and  I  know  of  no  other  way  to  explain  it 
than  by  the  arrow  theory.  The  tunnel  is  four  hun- 
dred feet  long,  four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea,  and 
varies  in  height  from  sixty-five  to  two  hundred  and 
forty-five  feet. 

We  are  now  unmistakably  in  the  north.  I  have  not 
seen  the  sun  since  I  left  the  scene  of  this  ancient  drama. 
For  a  few  hours  a  day  all  the  southern  half  of  the  sky 
has  been  illiuninated  by  a  soft  glow,  a  cross  between 
dawn  and  twilight.  The  combination  produces  color 
schemes  much  more  beautiful  than  either  could  produce 
alone,  and  the  always  changing  and  always  majestic 
outline  of  the  moimtains  adds  tremendously  to  their 
effect. 

It  has  been  warm  enough  to  permit  me  to  stand  on 
deck  quite  comfortably  all  the  time,  and  that  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  it  is  midwinter  and  that  I  am  more 
than  a  hundred  miles  north  of  the  arctic  circle.    The 


220        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

temperature  has  a  peculiar  tendency  to  actually  rise  as 
you  go  north  along  this  western  coast.  Even  as  far 
north  as  Hammerfest  the  water  up  to  the  very  heads  of 
the  still  fjords  never  freezes,  while  in  the  Baltic  and  the 
Gulf  of  Finland,  about  nine  hundred  miles  due  south, 
it  is  no  uncommon  thing  for  the  big  steamers  crossing 
from  Stockholm  to  be  frozen  in  solid.  The  mean 
January  temperature  of  the  Lofoten  Islands  is  about 
the  same  as  that  of  Berlin,  warmer  if  anything.  Ham- 
merfest is  in  the  same  latitude  as  the  arctic  regions  of 
America,  where  Franklin  perished,  and  as  the  unin- 
habitable regions  of  northern  Siberia,  yet  the  average 
winter  temperature  here  is  rather  warmer  than  in  New 
York.  As  I  write,  here  in  Narvik,  January  12,  a  hun- 
dred miles  north  of  the  arctic  circle  and  about  twenty- 
nine  degrees  of  latitude  north  of  New  York,  it  is  raining, 
and  there  is  no  snow  on  the  ground.  Of  course  I  don't 
need  to  tell  you  that  the  Gulf  Stream  is  responsible  for 
all  this. 

Another  peculiarity  about  the  coast  of  Norway  is 
that  it  is  rising  bodily  out  of  the  ocean.  At  Trondhjem 
it  is  a  well-ascertained  fact  that  in  the  days  of  Olaf 
Tryggvesson,  who,  as  I  have  told  you,  was  king  about 
nine  hundred  years  ago,  the  coast  line  there  was  twenty 
feet  higher  than  it  is  now.  In  Hammerfest  there  are 
unmistakable  indications  of  an  old  coast  line  six  hundred 
and  twenty  feet  above  the  present  one.  In  some  parts 
of  Scandinavia  the  land  is  rising  at  the  rate  of  five  feet 
in  a  century.  At  that  rate  it  will  be  about  ten  miles 
higher  a  million  years  from  now.    Even  with  my  geo- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  221 

logically  untrained  eye  I  can  easily  see  in  many  of  the 
fjords  distinct  lines  which  must  formerly  have  been  on 
the  sea  level. 

Directly  in  the  center  of  the  stage  of  this  old  drama, 
the  "Maiden  of  Leko,"  is  an  island  called  Thjoto  or 
Thjotta,  formerly  the  private  property  of  an  earl  named 
Haarek.  This  Haarek  was  a  heathen  earl  who  lived  in 
the  time  of  the  aforementioned  Olaf  Tryggvesson.  Olaf 
was  a  Christian  king,  and  consequently  he  was  much 
distressed  that  this  heathen  earl  possessed  so  much 
power.  He  accordingly  summoned  Haarek  to  his  court 
and  told  him  that  he  must  either  be  baptized  or  killed. 
The  former  course  seemed  to  Haarek  on  the  whole  the 
more  attractive,  and  in  the  end  he  and  all  his  house  were 
baptized. 

Perhaps  this  would  be  an  appropriate  time  to  tell  you 
something  about  the  strenuous  methods  by  which  Nor- 
way was  converted  to  Christianity.  Olaf  Tryggvesson 
was  the  first  great  missionary-king,  and  he  attacked 
with  fiery  zeal  the  problem  of  converting  his  realm. 
He  was  so  strenuous  that  he  aroused  much  anger  in  his 
subjects,  who  finally  rebelled.  At  this,  Olaf,  who  was 
always  equal  to  any  emergency,  summoned  six  of  the 
ringleaders,  and  holding  an  ax  over  the  head  of  each  in 
turn  he  offered  them  their  choice  of  being  killed  or 
baptized.  Most  of  them  chose  to  be  baptized,  but  one 
asked  the  priest  where  were  the  old  heroes,  Harald 
Fairhair  and  Halfdan  the  Swarthy.  The  priest  replied 
that  they  were  in  hell,  whereupon  the  courageous  chief- 
tain said    very  well,  he  would  like  to  join  them,  and 


222        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

he  was  promptly  killed.  I  suspect  that  in  this  case  the 
heathen  was  nobler  than  the  Christians. 

King  Olaf  had  a  crony  in  his  court,  chaplain  Thang- 
brand,  the  Saxon  priest.  Thangbrand  was  a  perfectly 
ferocious  man,  whose  insincerity  as  a  missionary  of  the 
gospel  of  peace  must  have  been  most  evident.  Some 
years  before  he  had  visited  Bishop  Siric  of  Canterbury, 
who  had  presented  him  with  a  valuable  and  unique 
shield,  on  which  was  wrought  the  image  of  the  crucified 
Christ.    As  Boyesen  says: 

"Shortly  after  this  occurrence,  Thangbrand  made  the 
acquaintance  of  Olaf  Tryggvesson,  who  admired  the 
shield  greatly  and  desired  to  buy  it.  The  priest  received 
a  munificent  compensation,  and,  finding  himself  suddenly 
rich,  went  and  bought  a  beautiful  Irish  girl,  whose  charms 
had  beguiled  him.  A  German  warrior  who  saw  the  girl 
claimed  her,  and  when  his  demand  was  scornfully  re- 
fused challenged  the  priest.  A  duel  was  fought,  and 
the  German  was  killed.  Some  ill  feeling  was  aroused 
against  Thangbrand  by  this  incident,  and  he  fled  to  his 
friend,  Olaf  Tryggvesson,  and  became  his  court  chap- 
lam." 

Needless  to  say.  King  Olaf  had  no  idea  what  Christian- 
ity really  meant.  To  him  it  was  merely  a  substitution 
of  one  polytheism  for  another.  The  Trinity,  the  Virgin 
Mary,  and  numberless  saints  took  the  place  of  Odin, 
Thor,  Frey,  and  the  rest  of  the  old  gods.  The  one  differ- 
ence which  in  time  permeated  the  viking  consciousness 
was  that,  while  Odin  and  his  colleagues  rejoiced  in  blood- 
shed and  cruelty,  Christ  the  "White"  advocated  "Peace 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  223 

on  earth,  good  will  to  men."  Thirty  years  later  King  Olaf 
Haroldsson  earned  by  his  Hfe,  and  still  more  by  his  death, 
the  title  of  Olaf  the  Saint.  He  took  the  Norse  imagina- 
tion captive,  and  by  his  truly  saintly  life  and  death  won 
his  country  to  real  Christianity. 

The  first  Olaf  Tryggvesson  resorted  at  times  to  the 
most  cruel  measures  in  his  efforts  to  convert  his  subjects. 
Raud  the  Strong,  who  refused  to  accept  the  new  faith, 
he  tortured  most  horribly,  finally,  it  is  said,  forcing  an 
adder  down  his  throat,  which  cut  its  way  through  his 
side  and  killed  him  with  its  poison.  Eyvind  Kinriva, 
another  chieftain  who  refused  to  be  baptized,  ^'had 
glowing  coals  put  upon  his  stomach  at  the  king's  com- 
mand, and  expired  under  horrible  tortures." 

In  all  this,  however,  Olaf  verily  thought  that  he  did 
God's  service.  He  was  so  burning  with  zeal  for  the  new 
faith,  without  at  the  same  time  having  the  slightest 
conception  of  what  the  new  faith  meant,  that  he  sub- 
jected everything  to  this  one  idea  of  fierce  missionary 
enthusiasm. 

The  case  was  quite  otherwise  with  the  vicious  priest, 
Thangbrand.  It  is  certain  that  he  recognized  himself 
for  a  charlatan  who  was  interested  in  the  new  religion 
only  for  what  he  could  get  out  of  it.  He  had  a  parish  at 
one  time  at  Moster  in  Norway,  but,  as  he  found  it  incon- 
venient to  Hve  and  support  his  Irish  beauty  on  his  slender 
income,  he  "formed  the  habit  of  making  forays  into  the 
neighboring  shires,  replenishing  his  stores  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  heathen."  King  Olaf  was  incensed  at  this, 
and  as  a  penance  he  made  the  Saxon  priest  go  on  a  mis- 


224        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

sionary  journey  to  Iceland.  Here  Thangbrand  killed 
nearly  as  many  men  as  he  converted,  and  he  was  finally 
outlawed  and  compelled  to  leave  the  island.  But  it  is 
strangely  enough  a  fact  that  about  a  year  after  his  en- 
forced flight  Iceland  did  legally  adopt  the  new  faith  at 
the  Althing  of  June  in  the  year  looo. 

I  will  tell  you  more  about  Olaf  the  Saint  and  some  of 
the  other  Olafs  and  Haakons  and  Haralds  when  I  come 
back  to  Trondhjem.  If  I  run  on  any  more  now  about 
history  I  shall  never  get  you  to  Narvik.  Not  far  from 
Thjotta  is  the  great  "Svartisen"  glacier,  which  is,  being 
interpreted,  "Swarthy  Ice/'  or  "Black  Ice."  This  is 
the  only  glacier  in  Europe  which  sends  branches  down 
to  the  edge  of  the  sea. 

Fifty  miles  or  so  north  of  the  arctic  circle  there  is  a 
town  called  Bodo,  which  the  tourist  steamers  utterly 
ignore,  but  our  good  mail  skib  of  the  Nordenfjeldske 
Dampskibsselskab  does  not  scorn  it,  and  afforded  us  a 
most  interesting  stop  of  two  or  three  hours.  Like  all 
these  arctic  towns,  Bodo  is  built  entirely  of  wood,  and 
offers  a  good  opportiuiity  for  fires,  which  opportunity  is 
seldom  neglected  for  a  very  long  time.  There  is  a  church 
parsonage  near  the  town,  which  once  sheltered  no  less  a 
celebrity  than  Louis  Philippe,  when  he  was  travehng 
incognito  as  "Herr  Miiller."  There  is  one  old  room  in 
this  house  which  is  still  called  Louis  Philippe's  chamber. 

From  a  hill  above  Bodo  I  got  my  first  glimpse  of  the 
Lofotens,  and  I  could  hardly  wait  to  get  among  these 
islands.  Directly  east  of  Bodo  is  a  fjord  with  the  im- 
pronoimcable  name  of  Skjerstadfjord,  which  opens  out 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  225 

to  the  main  sea  through  three  very  narrow  openings. 
The  fjord  is  so  large  and  the  openings  are  so  small  that 
a  tremendous  torrent  is  formed  four  times  daily  by  the 
two  incoming  and  the  two  outgoing  tides.  The  tide  only 
rises  and  falls  six  or  at  most  eight  feet,  but  you  can  see 
that  to  cover  a  fjord  thirty  miles  long  and  six  or  eight 
miles  wide  with  six  feet  of  water,  and  to  accomplish  the 
inundation  in  a  few  hours  through  a  tiny  opening,  re- 
quires a  violent  torrent.  At  the  Godostrom  or  Saltstrom, 
the  narrowest  of  the  openings,  the  tide  is  so  violent  that 
only  for  an  hour  at  ebb  and  full  tide  do  the  steamers  dare 
to  go  through. 

As  we  approached  the  Lofotens,  we  passed  the  famous 
Maelstrom  on  the  left.  This  Maelstrom  is  a  feeble 
little  current  which  passes  around  the  edge  of  the  south- 
ernmost island  of  the  group.  Compared  with  the  Salt- 
strom it  is  a  calm  mill  pond,  yet  some  poet  had  the  nerve 
to  fool  all  the  world  into  thinking  that  some  horrible, 
yawning  cavity  in  the  sea  existed  somewhere  along  the 
Norwegian  coast.  I  have  learned  that  two  poets  and  a 
bishop  are  largely  responsible  for  this  idea.  The  poets 
are  Campbell  and  Poe,  and  the  bishop  bore  the  name  of 
Pontoppidan.    Campbell  writes: 

"Round  the  isle  where  loud  Lofoden 
Whiris  to  death  the  roaring  whale,"  etc. 

Campbell  could  not  have  seen  the  Maelstrom,  or  he 
would  not  have  written  so  ridiculously  about  it.  I  doubt, 
too,  if  he  was  ever  frightened  by  the  "roar"  of  a  whale. 
A  minnow  or  a  tadpole  could  swim  through  the  Mael- 
strom without  reahzing  that  he  was  in  it,  and  as  for  a 


226        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

whale  being  "whirled  to  death"  —  well,  perhaps  a  poet 
has  a  right  to  say  such  things.  The  good  Bishop  Pon- 
toppidan,  in  the  same  work  in  which  he  dilates  upon  the 
horrors  of  the  Maelstrom,  tells  of  a  sea  serpent  or 
kraken:  "Its  back  or  upper  part,"  he  says,  "which  seems 
to  be  in  appearance  about  an  English  mile  and  a  half  in 
circiunference  (some  say  more,  but  I  choose  the  least  for 
greater  certainty)  looks  at  first  like  a  number  of  small 
islands  surrounded  with  something  that  floats  and  fluc- 
tuates like  seaweed." 

You  may  imagine,  Judicia,  how  I  was  comforted  by  a 
certain  guide  book's  reassurance  that  "there  is  no  doubt 
that  this  dreaded  monster  is  a  purely  optical  illusion." 
So  there  isn't  any  sea  serpent  with  a  back  an  English 
mile  and  a  half  in  circumference,  and  there  isn't  any 
yawning  chasm. 

Regardless  of  whirlpools  and  sea  serpents,  the  ap- 
proach to  the  Lofotens  gave  one  of  the  most  interesting 
views  I  have  seen  anywhere.  It  was  high  noon  when  we 
left  Bodo,  and,  as  it  did  not  get  dark  until  nearly  three 
o'clock,  we  had  a  good  view.  Dear  old  Baedeker,  for 
whom  I  am  coming  to  feel  a  genuine  affection,  states  that 
these  islands  form  a  chain  which  has  "not  inaptly  been 
likened  to  a  backbone,  tapering  away  to  the  smaller 
vertebrae  of  the  tail  at  the  south  end."  Whoever  said 
that  originally  had  a  good  command  over  similes,  for 
it  does  have  very  much  that  form.  The  jagged  outline 
of  the  mountains  as  we  sailed  over  the  "darkling"  ex- 
panse of  water  was  something  for  poets  to  write  about. 

One  very  prosy  author  describes  the  scene  as  "pictur- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  227 

esque.^'    What  a  fine,  expressive,  original  word  it  is,  and 

incidentally  how  faithful  and  obHging!    It  will  attach 

itself  to  a  Neapolitan  beggar,  or  a  Damascus  rag  fair  or 

a  Nile  dahabiyeh,  or  anything  else  in  the  wide  world, 

and  I  do  think  the  Lofotens  might  have  a  word  of  their 

own.    Without  any  directly  applied  adjective,  Campbell 

makes  you  see  the  Lofotens  and  feel  thqir  spell  by  these 

two  lines: 

"Round  the  shores  where  runic  Odin 
Howls  his  war-song  to  the  gale." 

After  these  lines,  can't  you  see  the  wind  swirling 
around  the  sheer,  rocky  mountains? 

It  began  to  get  dark  as  we  approached  the  islands, 
and  we  had  to  feel  our  way  through  a  big  fishing  fleet, 
which  was  just  beginning  operations.  This  fishing  fleet 
was  only  a  small  section  of  the  entire  squadron.  An 
average  annual  catch  mounts  up  to  nearly  thirty  million 
cod,  and  the  record  is  thirty-seven  million.  Thirty 
million  cod  hvers  are  taken  out  and  boiled  into  cod- 
liver  oil.  Thirty  million  cod  heads  are  burned  and  pul- 
verized and  made  into  fertilizer,  and  thirty  million  cod 
carcasses  are  hung  up  to  dry,  eventually  to  be  sent  all 
over  the  world. 

This  very  useful  fish  formerly  waged  a  mortal  war- 
fare with  the  herring  in  the  region  of  Stavanger,  very 
much  farther  south.  The  herring  were  the  aborigines  in 
that  region,  but  in  1784  a  battle  resulted  in  a  complete 
cod  victory.  For  twenty-four  years  the  cod  held  the 
fort.  In  1808  a  herring  Napoleon  arose  and  led  his  forces 
to  victory.    The  cod  were  completely  routed,  and  for 


228        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

sixty-one  years  the  herring  rejoiced  in  their  native 
stamping  ground,  and  the  fishermen  did  not  catch  a 
single  cod.  In  1869  the  cod  again  "came  back"  and 
have  held  their  place  ever  since.  However,  there  is  no 
knowing  when  another  Napoleon  herring  may  arise. 
Perhaps  fishes  as  well  as  men  need  a  Hague  Tribunal, 
and  a  Carnegie  Foundation,  and  a  Nobel  Peace  Prize. 

These  fishermen  live  a  precarious  and  a  dangerous 
life.  Violent  storms  often  spring  up  suddenly  and  toss 
their  little  smacks  in  all  directions.  In  1848,  on  February 
II,  five  hundred  fishermen  were  drowned  in  such  a  storm. 

On  one  of  the  southern  islands  is  a  natural  trap  called 
"Whale  Creek,"  into  which  whales  occasionally  swim  at 
high  tide,  and,  being  unable  to  turn  around,  find  them- 
selves stranded  when  the  tide  goes  out.  There  is  sea 
"life"  all  aroimd  these  Lofoten  Islands.  There  are 
eider  ducks  by  the  million,  whose  down  is  so  valuable. 
These  little  ducks  are  said  to  have  the  power  of  diving 
one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  for  the.  crabs  which  form 
their  daily  bread.  Lobsters  and  seals  also  bring  a  hand- 
some revenue  into  the  coffers  of  the  natives.  Of  course 
sea  gulls  and  porpoises  are  everywhere.  Also  there  is  a 
whole  tribe  of  birds  called  "skua,"  who  live  entirely  by 
brigandage  and  highway  robbery.  Through  laziness  or 
inability,  they  will  not  or  cannot  earn  their  own  "keep," 
and  they  Ue  in  wait  and  rob  the  sea  gulls  of  their  prey. 
If  a  Norwegian  sea  gull  wishes  to  have  any  peace  he 
must  seek  some  secluded  spot  where  he  may  dive  and 
seize  his  prey  unmolested  by  these  skua  thieves. 

The  most  important  stopping  place  in  the  Lofoten 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  229 

Islands  is  the  town  of  Svolvaer.  The  same  author  who 
thinks  that  the  Lofotens  in  general  are  "picturesque" 
finds  Svolvaer  "most  picturesque.''  Well,  whatever 
adjective  you  do  use  to  characterize  the  islands  in  gen- 
eral, you  must,  in  all  fairness,  apply  in  the  superlative 
degree  to  Svolvaer.  The  great,  raw  cHffs,  two  thousand 
feet  high,  come  so  close  to  the  water's  edge  and  rise  so 
sheer  that  the  little  town  gives  the  appearance  of  one 
flattening  himself  against  the  rock  and  clinging  by  his 
finger  nails  and  eyebrows.  The  ships  in  the  harbor  look 
like  discarded  peanut  shells  beside  these  towering  walls 
of  rock. 

The  shape  of  these  boats,  particularly  of  the  small  row- 
boats,  gives  away  their  pedigree  instantly.  They  are  un- 
mistakably descendants  of  the  vikings.  They  have  high 
prows  and  high  sterns,  and  these  are  adorned  with 
various  viking  ornamentations. 

At  Svolvaer  several  Sea-Lapps  came  to  the  wharf  to 
meet  our  steamer.  They  are  rather  poor  specimens  of 
Laplanders.  They  have  given  up  their  old,  wandering 
reindeer  Hfe  and  are  making  a  somewhat  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  be  Norwegian  fishermen.  Being  between 
hay  and  grass,  or  rather  between  reindeer  and  cod,  they 
are  a  very  scraggly,  unkempt  lot. 

At  Lodingen,  about  a  hundred  and  forty  miles  from 
Svolvaer  by  the  steamer's  winding  course,  I  had  to 
change  to  a  little  boat,  which  took  me  on  an  eight-hour 
trip  through  the  long  Ofotenfjord  to  Narvik.  This 
Ofotenf jord  is  one  of  the  very  finest  in  Norway,  and  yet 
it  is  seldom  visited  by  Americans,  as  the  summer  tourist 


a30        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

steamers  all  sail  by.  We  got  to  Lodingen  early  in  the 
morning,  about  seven  o'clock,  hours  before  dawn,  and 
were  soon  chugging  over  the  quiet  Ofoten  in  a  little  boat 
of  almost  steam-laimch  diminutiveness.  About  half- 
past  nine  there  began  to  be  very  faint  signs  that  there 
might  be  a  sun  somewhere,  and  by  eleven  o'clock  it  had 
gotten  near  enough  to  the  horizon  to  flood  half  the  sky 
with  a  soft  glow  of  changing  and  indescribable  color.  I 
saw  many  familiar  mountains  on  this  trip.  Two  Matter- 
horns,  a  Dent  du  Midi,  a  Gramont,  and  a  Fujiyama 
were  unmistakable.  Fujiyama  was  absolutely  perfect 
except  that  a  Uttle  part  of  the  top  of  the  cone  had  been 
clipped  off  as  though  with  a  giant  egg-decapitator. 
Dent  du  Midi  was  perfect,  too,  only  Chillon  being  absent. 
At  one  of  the  ports  of  call  on  the  way  to  Narvik,  a 
port  which  apparently  consisted  of  three  houses,  a  small 
viking  boat  came  out  and  contributed  two  persons  to  our 
passenger  list.  After  our  boat  had  started  again  and 
was  well  on  its  way,  a  little  boy  appeared  from  some- 
where and  suddenly  remembered  that  he  had  meant  to 
get  off  at  that  station.  Obligingly,  and  as  a  matter  of 
course,  the  captain  signaled  to  his  engineer,  the  engines 
were  reversed,  and  the  boat  chugged  back  a  long  -vC-ay; 
someone  called  to  the  viking  rowboat,  which  came  out 
and  got  the  belated  passenger.  There  is  no  hurry  about 
anything  in  this  part  of  Norway,  no  confusion  and  no 
yelling.  The  people  seem  to  make  a  point  of  not  talk- 
ing at  all  imless  they  have  something  that  must  be  said. 
At  several  of  the  stops  passengers  were  transferred  back 
and  forth  without  the  assistance  of  a  single  spoken  word 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  231 

by  anybody.  The  Norwegians,  at  least  in  the  quieter 
parts  of  the  country,  are  as  simple  and  genuine  and 
honest  as  any  people  in  the  world.  Truly  I  beheve  that 
it  is  a  certain  stolid  honesty  that  makes  them  often  so 
silent.  I  think  they  feel  that  it  would  not  be  quite 
genuine  to  say  something  that  did  not  seem  to  be  worth 
saying. 

About  four  o^clock  in  the  afternoon,  when  it  had  long 
been  night,  we  came  in  sight  of  Narvik.  I  was  aston- 
ished to  see  what  a  busy,  hustling  city  it  was.  All  along 
the  fjord,  in  fact  all  the  way  from  Trondhjem,  I  had 
lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  slow,  almost  stolid,  quiet. 
No  one  had  been  in  a  hurry.  But  here  was  a  busy, 
noisy  little  city.  Himdreds  of  bright  electric  lights 
twinkled  in  the  distance,  and  from  miles  away  I  could 
hear  the  clanking  of  chains,  the  chugging  of  machinery, 
the  tooting  and  puffing  of  trains,  and  a  thousand  other 
noises  that  go  to  the  making  of  a  commercial  town^s 
wharves.  A  Baedeker  of  fifteen  years  back  does  not 
mention  Narvik,  for  the  very  good  reason  that  it  did 
not  exist;  yet  now  it  is  the  busiest  town  north  of  the 
arctic  circle  anywhere  in  the  world.  The  iron  mines 
of  Kiruna  in  Swedish  Lapland  and  the  nev/  railway  from 
there  to  Narvik  have  made  this  seaport  possible.  It  is 
said  that  now  two  and  a  quarter  million  tons  of  iron  ore 
are  exported  annually  from  Narvik  to  all  parts  of  the 
world,  a  large  share  going  to  Emden  in  Germany.  Some 
of  it,  strangely  enough,  finds  its  way  to  Philadelphia, 
and  not  so  very  long  ago  I  read  in  the  paper  of  a  colli- 
sion of  one  of  these  Narvik  iron-ore  ships  with  an 


232         THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

American  ship  in  Delaware  Bay.  At  the  time  I  read  the 
item  I  had  not  been  to  Norway,  and  I  remember  won- 
dering where  in  the  world  Narvik  was,  and  why  an  iron- 
ore  ship  from  there  should  be  in  Delaware  Bay.  It  is 
almost  unbelievable  that  little  Norway,  with  less  than 
three  million  inhabitants,  all  told,  has  the  fourth  largest 
commercial  fleet  in  the  world,  following  Great  Britain 
and  the  United  States  and  Germany;  yet  such  is  the 
case.  Narvik  now  contributes  very  considerably  to 
this  commercial  fleet.  There  are  frequently  five  or  six 
big  ships  lying  in  the  harbor,  and  others  are  always  up 
at  the  wharves  being  loaded  with  ore. 

As  our  Httle  boat  drew  up  at  the  wharf,  a  number  of 
hotel  porters  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  I  tried  to 
judge  of  them  and  choose  by  the  appearance  of  the 
porters.  Full  of  dignity,  and  absorbed  in  my  occupa- 
tion of  studying  the  hotels  through  their  representatives, 
I  stepped  boldly  off  the  gangplank.  Oh,  Judicial  Alas 
for  my  dignity.  My  feet  shot  out  from  under  me,  and 
I  sUd  into  that  nest  of  porters  as  a  man  sUdes  for  second 
base.  My  suit  case  and  rug  case  bounded  merrily 
away,  and  my  derby  rolled  off,  and  just  to  the  edge  of 
the  wharf,  where  it  balanced  for  a  long  time  and  finally 
fell  over,  between  the  wharf  and  the  steamer.  Those 
hotel  porters  had  never  seen  anything  so  himiorous. 
As  soon  as  they  foimd  I  was  not  hurt,  they  separated 
into  little  groups  and  went  off  to  laugh.  One  of  them 
fished  for  my  derby  and  collected  my  suit  case  and  rug 
case,  for  which  offices  I  was  so  grateful  that  I  finally 
went  to  his  hotel^  which  bears  the  name  of  Fonix,    All 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  233 

Narvik  was  covered  with  glare  ice,  and  it  required  the 
greatest  skill  to  navigate  the  streets  at  all.  It  was 
raining  gently,  which  made  the  ice  a  trifle  more  treach- 
erous. 

Fonix  is  Norwegian  for  "Phoenix,"  and  the  hotel  is 
very  appropriately  named,  because  it  has  risen  out  of  the 
ashes  of  a  former  hotel  which  was  burned  a  few  years 
ago.  My  beloved  British  author,  the  inventor  of  the 
word  "picturesque,"  stopped  at  this  same  hotel  when 
he  was  in  Narvik.  His  chief  items  about  the  town  are 
that  there  was  a  pianola  in  the  parlor  of  the  hotel  and 
that  the  man  in  the  next  room  to  his  made  a  good  deal 
of  noise.  However,  Narvik  need  not  feel  badly  over 
such  neglect,  for  the  same  author's  principal  headline 
about  Chris tiania  is  that  the  people  "wear  goloshes  a 
good  deal,"  which  he  thinks  rather  a  clever  idea.  His 
book  is  all  right  in  its  way,  and  gives  an  interesting 
account  of  a  ski  trip  he  took,  but  I  cannot  see  how  he 
could  travel  through  Norway  and  apparently  find 
pianolas  and  goloshes  the  most  interesting  attractions. 
He  finds  the  Norwegian  fishermen  a  "white-faced,  ill- 
fed,  unintelligent  looking  lot,"  for  which  condition  he 
believes  consiunption  is  largely  responsible.  I  cannot 
imagine  where  he  got  this  idea.  I  certainly  haven't 
noticed  the  ravages  of  consiunption. 

This  seems  to  be  lengthening  into  a  very  long  letter, 
but  I  must  tell  you  something  about  Narvik.  It  is  a 
ramshackly,  ugly  town,  architecturally  speaking.  There 
are  no  fine  buildings,  and  everything  gives  the  appear- 
ance of  having  been  hastily  tumbled  together,  any  old 


234        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

way.  Of  course  it  is  a  mushroom  town  which  sprang 
up  simply  to  accommodate  the  endless  stream  of  iron 
ore  coming  from  Lapland,  so  I  don't  have  any  trouble 
in  forgiving  its  ugliness.  It  reminds  me  very  much  of 
the  Alaskan  towns  that  Rex  Beach  describes  so  vividly, 
though  there  are  no  evidences  of  wickedness  here.  It 
all  looks  temporary,  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  if 
fifty  years  from  now  there  should  be  a  fine-looking  city 
in  place  of  this  crude  pioneer  town. 

Everybody,  everywhere,  is  as  honest  as  the  hills,  and 
it  is  wonderfully  refeshing  to  find  such  a  condition 
after  traveling  in  Italy.  I  went  into  a  shop  to  buy  a 
needle  and  thread  (for  I  am  going  to  attempt  to  sew  on 
a  button)  and  the  shop  girl  said  she  only  had  a  full 
sewing  kit,  which  would  cost  a  kroner  (twenty-seven 
cents),  and  as  that  was  more  than  I  should  want  I 
could  probably  get  a  single  needle  and  thread  at  the 
next  shop.  I  went  there  and  succeeded  in  getting  one 
needle  for  three  ore  and  a  spool  of  thread  for  ten — total 
expense,  thirteen  ore  (three  cents).  "  The  Norwegians  as 
a  class — hotel  keepers,  shopkeepers,  cab  drivers,  and 
everyone  else — would  rather  starve  than  keep  a  quarter 
of  an  ore  that  didn't  belong  to  them.  Imagine  a  Nea- 
politan shopkeeper  who  considered  it  wrong  to  cheat 
a  customer.  He  would  be  considered  mentally  \mbal- 
anced,  almost  a  dangerous  person,  if  he  really  indulged 
in  conscientious  scruples  in  such  matters.  These  genu- 
ine, trusty  Norwegians  are  a  positive  comfort  to  one 
who  has  lately  been  robbed  in  Naples. 

Our  waitress  at  the  Fonix  has  one  custom  in  common 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  235 

with  all  other  waitresses  in  Norway.  As  she  brings  on 
each  course,  she  says  what  sounds  like  ^'shuket."  With 
each  course  her  voice  sinks  lower  and  lower,  until  at  the 
dessert  she  barely  whispers  it.  At  first  when  I  heard  it 
I  though  she  was  trying  to  be  kittenish.  But  as  I  didn't 
"rise,"  and  as  she  kept  on  saying  it,  I  changed  my 
mind.  I  have  only  just  learned  that  she  was  saying  a 
very  much  abbreviated  vaer  saa  god,  which  means  "be 
so  good,"  and  is  somewhat  equivalent  to  "if  you  please," 
though  much  more  imiversal.  I  have  heard  it  a  thou- 
sand times  since  I  came  to  Norway,  from  young  and 
old,  high  and  low.  It  is  never  obsequious,  the  smirking 
prerequisite  of  an  expected  tip.  It  is  natural  politeness, 
and  second  nature  to  the  Norwegians.  It  would  be 
ill-mannered  to  omit  vaer  saa  god  when  serving  anyone 
in  any  way. 

I  have  recently  heard  from  Phillips  that  he  is  reveling 
in  the  snow  of  Swedish  Lapland.  He  is  going  to  Lulea 
at  the  head  of  the  Baltic  to-morrow,  and  has  invited 
me  to  join  him  there.  So  I  am  going  to  leave  here  to- 
morrow morning  for  Lulea,  and  go  from  there  by  rail 
to  Trondhjem. 

It  may  be  some  time  before  I  shall  v/rite  again,  in 
view  of  which  I  hope  you  have  been  sensible  enough  to 
read  this  very  long  letter  in  installments. 

Auf  wiedersehen,  then,  imtil  Trondhjem. 

As  ever, 
Aylmer. 


FIFTH  LETTER 

Some  interesting  etymology;  from  Trondhjem  to  Hell  and  return; 
Haralds,  Haakons,  and  Olafs;  Hasting  and  his  sack  of  "  Rome"; 
Harald  Fairhair  and  his  matrimonial  ventures;  Rolf  the  Walker; 
kissing  by  proxy;  the  descendants  of  Harald  Fairhair;  a  Chris- 
tian saint  on  the  throne  of  Norway;  Harold  Gilchrist,  a  miracle 
of  presimiption ;  the  blood-curdling  bravery  of  the  Jomsvikings; 
the  troubled  times  before  the  accession  of  Olaf  the  Saint. 

Trondhjem,  February  15. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  think  I  left  you  about  a  raonth  ago  in  the  seaport 
of  Narvik.  I  want  to  give  you  by  way  of  preamble 
some  etymological  information  of  interest  which  I  have 
learned  in  connection  with  that  name.  The  ending 
vikj  which  appears  on  the  average  in  about  every  third 
name  in  Norway,  means  "creek."  It  is  the  same 
root  as  the  vik  in  the  word  "viking,''  and  corresponds 
to  the  English  "wich"  or  "wick."  A  viking  was  noth- 
ing more  nor  less  than  a  "creekling."  A  modem  resi- 
dent of  Sandwich  or  Harwich  or  even  of  Battle  Creek 
is  no  less  a  viking,  etymologically,  than  the  old  Norse- 
men. 

I  left  Narvik  January  13,  spent  that  night  in  Gelli- 
vare,  and  joined  Phillips  next  day  at  LuleH.  The  ride 
from  Narvik  to  Riksgransen,  the  first  Swedish  town,  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  I  have  ever  taken.  Right 
along  the  edge  of  a  long  arm  of  the  Ofotenf jord  the  train 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  237 

wound  its  way,  always  climbing  and  always  entering 
tunnels,  only  to  emerge  a  little  higher  above  the  fjord. 
It  was  just  beginning  to  dawn,  with  a  fresh,  clean  light 

We  had  a  great  time  in  Lulea,  and  I  shall  have  to 
admit  that  Sweden  has  some  attractions  after  all.  I 
came  here  to  Trondhjem  by  way  of  Bracke  and  Oster- 
sundand  StorHen,  a  route  you  can  trace  by  the  map  I 
inclose,  if  you  care  to.  Storlien  is  the  border  town 
between  the  two  countries,  and  near  it  a  wide  path  cut 
through  the  forest  marks  the  boundary. 

From  here  on  we  dropped  right  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  fjord,  which  we  reached  at  the  town  with  the  start- 
ling name  of  Hell.  It  is  a  dehghtful,  smiling  little  town, 
and  its  only  misfortune  lies  in  its  name.  It  offers  an 
endless  and  irresistible  opportunity  for  questionable 
puns.  One  guide  book  says:  "Ten  miles  from  Trond- 
hjem on  the  railway  to  Sweden  there  is  a  station  called 
Hell.  The  munber  of  return  tickets  for  this  quiet 
rural  spot  which  are  bought  by  English  tourists  but 
never  used  constitutes  quite  a  source  of  revenue." 

You  see,  even  the  prosy  guide  book  cannot  resist  such 
an  opportunity  for  a  joke.  Probably  at  least  two  thirds 
of  the  English-speaking  tourists  who  visit  this  town 
imagine  that  they  are  original  when  they  remark  that 
the  town  is  paved  with  good  intentions,  and  that  they 
are  going  to  write  a  Divine  Comedy  Hke  Dante,  etc.,  etc. 

Hell  is  beautifully  situated  and  offers  pleasant  ex- 
cursions in  all  directions. 

Here  in  Trondhjem  I  am  in  the  heart  and  soul  of 
Norway.  The  town  was  founded  under  the  original  name 


238        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

of  Nidaros  by  our  old  friend  Olaf  Tryggvesson.  Century 
after  century  the  Haakons  and  the  Olafs  and  Haralds 
and  Eriks  and  all  the  other  kings  and  warriors  fought 
for  Norway  here.  Many  of  the  streets  are  named  for 
the  old  heroes.  The  cathedral,  which  dominates  the 
whole  town,  is  a  perpetual  memorial  to  Olaf  the  Saint. 
I  could  not  find  a  more  appropriate  spot  from  which  to 
write  you  something  about  the  history  of  Norway. 
There  is  so  much  that  is  interesting  that  I  feel  hopeless 
about  trying  to  really  make  you  acquainted  with  it. 
Hjalmar  Boyesen  has  written  five  himdred  and  twenty- 
eight  pages  of  vividly,  dramatically  interesting  history 
on  the  subject,  yet  he  does  not  pretend  to  write  exhaus- 
tively. All  I  shall  do  is  to  skim  over  a  thousand  years 
or  so  and  here  and  there  pick  out  an  incident  or  a  char- 
acter that  particularly  interested  me. 

The  old  Norsemen,  the  vikings,  were  the  most  terrible 
of  roving  marauders,  terrible  at  least  to  the  rest  of  the 
world.  Tacitus  says:  "They  deem  it  a  disgrace  to  ac- 
quire by  sweat  what  they  might  obtain  by  blood." 
The  chieftains  were  venerated  in  almost  direct  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  marauding  expeditions  they  had 
made  and  the  number  of  towns  they  had  plundered. 
For  the  sake  of  glory  they  made  coimtless  sallies  in  all 
directions,  over  the  Baltic,  to  Finland  and  Germany, 
across  to  England  and  Ireland,  to  France,  to  Spain,  and 
even  to  Italy.  A  marauder  named  Hasting  is  said  to 
have  gone  as  far  as  Italy  and  to  have  sought  to  conquer 
the  Eternal  City  of  Rome. 

Unfortimately  for  this  desire.  Hasting  was  not  good 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  239 

at  geography.  He  arrived  with  his  fleet  at  the  city  of 
Luna,  near  Carrara,  and,  thinking  it  was  Rome,  he  con- 
cocted a  wily  scheme.  He  sent  word  to  the  bishop 
there  that  he  was  dying  and  wished  to  be  baptized  into 
the  Christian  faith  before  he  passed  away.  The  simple 
priest  was  in  ecstasy  at  the  thought  of  the  heavenly 
glory  he  would  win  by  converting  such  a  notorious  rob- 
ber. He  made  great  preparations  for  the  reception  of 
the  Norseman.  On  the  day  when  the  ceremony  of  bap- 
tism was  to  be  held,  messengers  came  to  the  bishop 
saying  that  Hasting  had  suddenly  died.  A  pompous 
funeral  was  held,  and  the  bishop  prepared  to  say  masses 
for  the  welfare  of  the  viking's  soul.  As  all  were  as- 
sembled for  this  purpose.  Hasting  suddenly  burst  from 
his  coffin,  called  to  his  men,  and  fell  savagely  upon  the 
bishop  and  the  priests.  It  is  reported  that  *' blood 
flowed  in  torrents  through  the  sacred  aisles."  The 
whole  city  was  captured  amid  a  scene  of  wholesale 
slaughter.  Some  time  after  Hasting  discovered  that  it 
was  not  Rome  he  had  captured  after  all. 

For  many  years  various  chieftains  with  picturesque 
names  kept  up  this  marauding  Hfe,  interspersing  their 
piratical  raids  with  occasional  attacks  upon  each  other. 

Finally  an  YngHng  chief  named  Harald  arose  from 
obscurity  and  conceived  the  brilliant  idea  of  conquering 
all  Norway  and  imiting  it  into  a  single  nation.  The  idea 
was  presented  to  him  very  forcibly  by  a  maiden  named 
Princess  Gyda,  to  whom  he  sent  messengers  asking  her 
to  become  his  wife.  Like  Sigrid  the  Haughty,  Gyda 
was  furious.     She  vowed  that  she  would  teach  little 


240        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

kings  the  risks  of  proposing  to  her.  She  scorned  Har- 
ald's  overtures,  sending  word  that  when  he  was  king 
over  all  Norway  she  would  consider  his  offer.  The  idea 
appealed  to  Harald,  and  he  wondered  why  he  had  not 
thought  of  it  before.  Accordingly  he  vowed  that  he 
would  not  cut  his  hair  until  he  had  conquered  all  Nor- 
way. He  eventually  succeeded  in  his  undertaking,  but 
the  process  was  long,  and  his  hair,  being  of  decidedly 
blond  ''persuasion,"  waved  like  a  bright  banner  wher- 
ever he  went.  He  had  always  been  called  Harald 
Frowsly-Headed,  but  now  he  came  to  be  called  Harald 
Fairhair,  and  he  founded  a  race  of  kings  that  ruled  Nor- 
way for  centuries.  Also  he  married  the  proud  Gyda, 
and  lived  happily  ever  after.  Gyda  seems  to  have  been 
not  even  annoyed  by  the  fact  that  during  the  interval 
in  which  he  had  been  conquering  Norway  and  letting 
his  hair  grow  he  had  married  a  maiden  named  Aasa 
and  had  three  sons. 

Harald  was  a  jealous  tryant,  and  made  life  in  Norway 
so  uncomfortable  that  many  of  the  earls  and  nobles  fled 
and  founded  settlements  in  the  Hebrides  and  the  Ork- 
neys, and  even  in  Iceland.  Rolf  the  Walker  (so  called 
because  he  was  so  huge  that  no  horse  could  carry  him) 
embarked  for  France  and  made  terrible  ravages  there. 
King  Charles  the  Simple,  however,  succeeded  in  making 
a  peace  with  him  whereby  Rolf  was  to  be  baptized  and 
receive  large  fiefs.  As  token  of  his  fealty  to  Charles  the 
Simple  he  was  to  kiss  the  king's  foot.  The  haughty 
Rolf  snorted  at  such  an  idea  and  sent  one  of  his  servants 
to  perform  the  osculation.    The  proxy  stalked  stiffly  to 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  241 

King  Charles,  seized  his  foot,  and  kissed  it  so  violently 
that  the  simple  Charles  tumbled  from  his  horse.  Charles 
was  frightened  out  of  what  wits  he  had,  and  instead  of 
punishing  such  insolence  gave  Rolf  the  hand  of  his 
daughter  in  marriage,  and  also  gave  him  half  of  his 
kingdom.  This  territory  came  to  be  called  Normandy, 
and  about  two  centuries  later  Rolf's  descendant,  William 
the  Conqueror,  achieved  fame. 

Harald  had  countless  matrimonial  ventures.  Be- 
sides Aasa  and  Gyda,  he  married  half  a  dozen  other  wives. 
One  of  them,  Snefrid  by  name,  was  a  sorceress.  For 
several  years  the  king  forgot  everything  but  his  passion 
for  her,  forgot  even  his  other  wives.  She  bore  him  five 
sons  and  then  died,  and  the  king  was  almost  insane  with 
grief  until  he  discovered  that  she  had  been  a  sorceress. 
He  was  then  thoroughly  angry,  and  to  save  his  face  he 
married  right  and  left  in  all  directions.  Among  others 
he  wooed  Ragnhild,  daughter  of  King  Erik  of  Jutland. 
Ragnhild  was  a  girl  of  some  spirit.  She  said  she  would 
not  put  up  with  one  thirtieth  part  of  the  king's  affection, 
and  he  could  give  her  the  whole  or  none.  He  accord- 
ingly deserted  his  other  wives  and  devoted  himself  to 
Ragnhild.  She  bore  him  a  son,  who  later  became  King 
Erik  Blood-Axe. 

When  Harald  was  seventy  years  old  he  married  his 
servant-girl,  Thora,  who  was  so  tall  that  she  was  known 
as  the  "Pole."  She  bore  him  a  son,  who  became  King 
Haakon  the  Good. 

I  should  not  dwell  so  much  on  Harald's  matrimonial 
adventures  except  they  that  form  indirectly  an  import- 


242        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

ant  link  in  the  long  chain  of  Norwegian  history.  He  had 
a  small  army  of  children,  and  he  was  foolish  enough  to 
stipulate  at  his  death  that  each  child,  whether  legitimate 
or  illegitimate,  should  inherit  a  province,  but  that  all 
should  owe  allegiance  to  his  favorite  son,  Erik  Blood- 
Axe. 

For  centuries  there  was  a  ceaseless  squabbling  among 
the  numerous  descendants.  Every  one  who  had  any 
ambition  asserted  that  he  was  a  son  or  a  descendant  of 
Harald,  and  claimed  the  throne.  As  it  was  of  course  un- 
possible  to  disprove  such  a  claim,  might  became  the  only 
right.  Two  centuries  later  a  vicious  Irishman,  named 
Harold  Gilchrist,  landed  in  Norway  and  claimed  to  be  a 
son  of  King  Magnus  Barefoot  and  consequently  a  de- 
scendant of  Harald  Fairhair.  He  had  no  proof  whatever 
of  his  claim,  but  no  one  could  disprove  it,  and,  as  Gil- 
christ was  a  cruel  and  imscrupulous  man,  he  actually 
succeeded  in  gaining  the  throne.  He  learned  a  smatter- 
ing of  the  Norwegian  language  and  ruled  cruelly,  leav- 
ing a  monstrous  name  behind  him,  and  a  long  line  of 
vicious  children  who  helped  to  complicate  matters. 

After  all  this  it  is  a  pleasure  to  come  to  a  king  who 
thoroughly  earned  the  name  of  Haakon  the  Good.  This 
king  was  the  image  of  his  father  in  face  and  figure,  but 
exactly  opposite  to  him  in  character.  It  is  difficult  to 
guess  how  he  came  by  his  wonderful  qualities  of  soul 
and  mind.  His  father  was  a  faithless,  polygamous  roue, 
and  his  mother's  only  claim  to  distinction  lay  in  the  fact 
that  she  was  a  servant-girl  of  gigantic  stature.  Haakon 
was  almost  a  saint.    He  seems  to  have  possessed  every 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  243 

good  quaKty  in  the  category.  He  was  gentle  and  lovable 
and  mild,  yet  he  was  a  model  of  manly  strength  and 
courage.  He  was  beautiful  to  look  at,  and  the  bitterest 
enemy  could  not  be  in  his  presence  for  even  a  few  minutes 
without  falling  under  the  spell  of  his  powerful  personal- 
ity. With  heart  and  soul  and  the  tenderest  conscience, 
he  sought  only  for  the  good  of  his  people.  It  was  a  new 
thing  for  a  king  to  use  his  office  for  any  purpose  other 
than  the  gratification  of  selfish  ambition.  No  wonder 
the  people  almost  worshiped  him. 

He  had  spent  his  boyhood  in  England  and  had  been 
baptized,  and  now  the  one  desire  of  his  heart  was  to 
bring  his  country  to  accept  the  Christian  faith.  He  was 
so  mild,  and  he  loved  mankind  so  devotedly,  that  he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  use  the  miHtant  methods  of 
conversion  which  his  successor,  Olaf  Tryggvesson,  em- 
ployed. He  was  too  gentle  to  be  a  successful  propagan- 
dist in  a  country  fanatically  devoted  to  Odin,  but  he  did 
win  a  great  many  true  converts  in  his  quiet  way.  At 
one  time  he  was  forced  much  against  his  will  to  attend  a 
popular  feast  in  honor  of  Odin,  but  he  quieted  his  con- 
science by  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  Odin's  horn. 
In  battle  he  was  almost  invincible.  At  one  time  the 
sons  of  Gunhild  attacked  him  with  a  force  six  times  his 
own  in  strength,  but  so  great  was  the  zeal  which  Haakon's 
followers  displayed  that  his  little  handful  of  men  won 
a  great  victory. 

His  enemies  on  this  occasion  were  the  sons  of  Erik 
Blood-Axe's  queen,  Gunhild.  She  was  as  near  a  devil 
as  Haakon  a  saint,  and  never  has  a  queen  been  more 


244        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

heartily  or  more  deservedly  hated.  Her  sons  inherited 
her  devilish  disposition  with  interest.  This  wicked 
queen  brought  troublous  times  to  Norway  after  the 
death  of  Haakon  the  Good.  One  man,  Tryggve,  a 
grandson  of  Harald  Fairhair  and  consequently  a  rival 
claimant  to  the  throne,  Gunhild  particularly  hated. 
She  tricked  him  into  her  power  and  murdered  him,  but 
Tryggve 's  widow  fled  to  a  tiny  islet  in  the  Randsfjord 
and  there  gave  birth  to  Olaf  Tryggvesson,  later  to  be 
one  of  the  greatest  of  Norway's  kings,  the  violent  but 
successful  propagandist  of  Christianity. 

The  name  of  Uttle  Olaf 's  mother  was  Aastrid,  and  with 
fine  courage  she  roamed  for  years  with  her  little  baby, 
a  starving  outcast,  in  continual  terror  of  Gunhild.  Her 
foster-father,  Thorolf  Lousy-Beard,  joined  her  and  her 
child,  and  for  long  they  lived  a  hunted,  precarious  life. 
Fortunately  for  Norway,  all  Giuihild's  efforts  proved  in 
vain.  Once  one  of  her  spies  almost  had  the  child,  when 
a  half-witted  peasant  appeared  on  the  scene,  rushed  at 
the  spy  with  a  pitchfork,  and  saved  Olaf 's  life. 

Earl  Haakon  was  another  of  Harald  Fairhair's  de- 
scendants who  somehow  escaped  Gunhild's  murderous 
tentacles.  He  joined  King  Harald  Bluetooth  of  Den- 
mark, and  as  a  reward  for  murdering  Gold-Harald,  an 
aspirant  to  the  Danish  throne,  Bluetooth  generously 
offered  to  accompany  him  on  an  expedition  against 
Gimhild.  On  their  arrival  in  Norway  they  took  every- 
thing without  striking  a  blow.  "  So  great  was  the  hatred 
of  Gunhild  and  her  sons,"  says  Boyesen,  "  that  not  a  man 
drew  his  sword  in  their  defense."    Gunhild  fled  in  terror 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  245 

to  the  Orkneys,  but,  according  to  Saga  report,  was  later 
enticed  to  Denmark  by  Harald  Bluetooth,  under  promise 
of  marriage,  and  drowned,  at  his  command,  in  a  swamp. 

Earl  Haakon  now  became  King  Haakon  of  Norway. 
He  was  a  powerful  and  great  king,  and  a  sincere  heathen. 
Harald  Bluetooth  was  an  insincere  Christian.  With 
ulterior  and  decidedly  questionable  motives  he  sent  for 
Haakon  to  come  and  be  baptized.  For  some  reason 
Haakon  appeared  to  obey,  visited  Bluetooth,  and  with  a 
shipload  of  priests  set  sail  from  Denmark;  but  whether 
because  of  twinges  of  conscience  or  for  less  worthy 
reasons,  he  repented,  hustled  the  priests  ashore,  and 
made  an  enormous  sacrifice  to  Odin.  Two  ravens,  mes- 
sengers of  Odin,  immediately  alighted  on  his  ship  and 
croaked  loud  approval,  whereat  Haakon  was  highly  en- 
couraged. The  Christian  Bluetooth  was  enraged.  He 
sought  the  alliance  of  a  powerful  company  of  pirates 
called  Joms vikings. 

These,  under  the  influence  of  the  flowing  bowl,  made 
most  extravagant  vows  of  vengeance  (on  Bluetooth's 
accoimt)  against  King  Haakon.  On  the  morning  after 
things  seemed  different  to  them,  but  nevertheless,  for 
their  vows'  sake,  they  set  out  for  Norway.  Earl  Erik,  an 
illegitimate  son  of  Haakon,  born,  it  is  said,  when  the  king 
was  fifteen  years  old,  heard  news  of  the  Jomsvikings,  and 
he  and  his  father  prepared  to  give  them  a  warm  recep- 
tion. When  the  two  fleets  met,  there  ensued  one  of  the 
wildest  and  most  ferocious  battles  in  all  history.  The 
phenomenal  courage  of  these  old  heroes  is  almost  un- 
believable.   One  of  the  Jomsvikings,  by  name  Haavard 


246        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  Hewer,  had  both  his  legs  cut  off  at  the  knees,  but 
he  fought  on  furiously,  standing  on  the  stumps  of  his 
knees.  Bue  the  Big  received  a  blow  from  one  of  Erik's 
men  which  completely  struck  off  his  nose.  Bue  never 
stopped  to  mourn  such  a  trifle  as  the  loss  of  a  nose.  He 
jokingly  remarked  to  one  of  'his  companions:  ^'Now  I 
fear  the  Danish  maidens  will  no  more  kiss  me.*' 

At  length  Haakon  and  Erik  were  victorious.  Vagn 
Aakeson,  the  leader  of  the  Jomsvikings,  was  bravely  and 
hopelessly  fighting  on.  "When  all  but  thirty  of  his  men 
were  dead,  he  at  last  surrendered.  The  captives  were 
brought  ashore  and  ordered  to  sit  down  in  a  row  upon  a 
log.  Their  feet  were  tied  together  with  a  rope,  while 
their  hands  remained  free.  One  of  Erik's  men,  Thorkell 
Leira,  whom  Vagn  at  that  memorable  feast  had  promised 
to  kill,  was  granted  the  privilege  of  reciprocating  the 
intended  favor  toward  Vagn.  With  his  ax  uplifted,  he 
rushed  at  the  captives,  and,  beginning  at  one  end  of  the 
log,  struck  off  one  head  after  another.  He  meant  to 
keep  Vagn  until  the  last,  in  order  to  increase  his  agony. 
But  Vagn  sat  chatting  merrily  with  his  men;  and  there 
was  much  jokiag  and  laughter. 

"'We  have  often  disputed,'  said  one,  'as  to  whether 
a  man  knows  of  anything  when  his  head  is  cut  off. 
That  we  can  now  test,  for  if  I  am  conscious  after  having 
lost  my  head,  I  will  stick  my  knife  into  the  earth.' 

"When  his  turn  came,  all  sat  watching  with  interest. 
But  his  knife  fell  from  his  nerveless  grasp,  and  there  was 
no  trace  of  consciousness.  One  of  the  vikings  on  the  log 
seemed  in  particularly  excellent  spirits.     He  laughed 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  247 

and  sang  as  he  saw  the  bloody  heads  of  his  comrades 
rolling  about  his  feet." 

The  next  cracked  a  clever  pun  at  the  executioner's 
expense,  and  Erik,  who  was  superintending  the  job, 
was  so  pleased  at  his  audacity  that  he  pardoned  him. 
The  next  of  the  doomed  men  had  long  flaxen  hair,  and 
humorously  requested  the  executioner  not  to  soil  his 
hair  with  the  blood.  Accordingly  an  assistant  was  dele- 
gated to  hold  out  of  harm's  way  the  glorious  flaxen 
locks.  Just  as  the  ax  was  descending,  the  Joms viking 
jerked  his  head  in  such  a  way  that  the  hands  of  the 
assistant  were  struck  off  at  the  wrists.  He  laughed  de- 
risively, and  Erik,  who  was  particularly  partial  to  such 
cleverness,  pardoned  him. 

At  this  point  Gissur  the  White  was  suddenly  shot  dead 
by  an  arrow  coming  from  nowhere  in  particular.  It 
seemed  that  Haavard  the  Hewer,  whom  everybody  had 
forgotten,  was  still  aUve  and  still  standing  on  the  bloody 
stumps  of  his  knees.  With  his  last  dying  gasp  of  strength 
he  had  shot  this  arrow. 

During  the  battle  King  Haakon  sacrificed  one  of  his 
sons,  and  this  horrible  action  did  much  to  hasten  the 
king's  overthrow.  His  name  became  a  nightmare  to  his 
subjects.  It  was  a  name  to  scare  bad  boys  with.  In 
the  most  abominable  manner  he  insulted  several  of  his 
most  powerful  nobles,  and  finally  they  rose  in  revolt. 
In  terror  Haakon  fled  with  a  single  thrall,  named  Kark, 
to  Rimul,  the  home  of  his  mistress  Thora.  She  hid  the 
two  in  a  pigsty,  and  there  they  spent  a  horrible  night. 
A  searching  party,  under  the  leadership  of  Olaf  Tryggves- 


248        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

son,  who  had  lately  returned  to  Norway  from  Russia, 
where  he  had  spent  his  youth,  walked  all  about,  within 
hearing  of  the  miserable  king  in  his  hiding  place.  Olaf 
mounted  a  stone  close  to  the  sty  and  said  in  a  loud  tone, 
which  the  two  miserable  men  could  hear,  that  he  offered 
a  great  reward  to  whoever  should  find  Haakon.  This 
of  course  added  to  Haakon's  terrors  the  fear  of  treachery 
on  the  part  of  his  thrall. 

All  night  king  and  thrall  sat  in  their  noisome  den. 
eyeing  each  other  in  awful,  mutual  distrust.  Toward 
morning  the  king  was  overpowered  by  sleep.  "But  the 
terrors  of  his  vigil  pursued  him  sleeping.  His  soul 
seemed  to  be  tossed  on  a  sea  of  anguish.  He  screamed 
in  wild  distress,  rolled  about,  rose  upon  his  knees  and 
elbows,  and  his  face  was  horrible  to  behold.''  Kark 
then  stabbed  his  master,  cut  off  his  head,  and  took  it  to 
Olaf,  claiming  his  reward.  Olaf,  on  the  dead  king's  ac- 
count, took  vengeance  on  the  traitor  by  killing  him. 

Longfellow  has  immortalized  this  event,  and  I  lately 

came  across  these  lines  of  his,  conunemorating  Olaf's 

celebration: 

"At  Nidarholm  the  monks  are  all  singing, 
;  Two  ghastly  heads  on  the  gallows  are  swinging; 
One  is  Earl  Haakon's  and  one  is  his  thrall's, 
While  the  people  are  shouting  from  windows  and  walls, 
And  alone  in  her  chamber  swoons  Thora,  the  fairest  of  women." 

These  were  hard  old  times.  But  the  influence  of  a  few 
noble  kings  like  Haakon  the  Good  and  Olaf  the  Saint 
wrought  in  time  a  great  change  on  these  brave  Norse- 
men. They  were  of  too  fine  a  stock  to  be  permanently 
satisfied  with  a  god  who  deUghted  in  bloodshed  and 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  249 

deceit.    Christianity  eventually  gave  them  higher  ideals 
without  robbing  them  of  their  indomitable  courage. 

I  will  tell  you  in  my  next  letter  a  little  about  the  better 
days  of  Norway,  particularly  in  connection  with  this  old 
city.  Of  course  I  can  only  skim  along,  picking  out  a  bit 
here  and  there.  The  reading  of  Boyesen's  Story  of  Nor- 
way has  left  me  with  a  tremendous  respect  for  the  caliber 
of  the  Norwegians,  from  the  days  of  Hasting  the  Pirate 
to  the  days  of  King  Haakon  VII,  who  was  crowned  in 
Trondhjem  Cathedral  in  1905. 

Good-by.    As  ever, 
Aylmer. 


SIXTH  LETTER 

The  "  thermometer  of  Norway" ;  the  Refonnation  in  Norway;  the 
caliber  of  the  early  Reformation  pastors;  the  register  of  the 
"Hospitset";  "fladbrod"  and  "mysost";  a  type  of  Norwegian 
gentleman. 

Trondhjem,  February  23. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  have  spent  ov.er  a  month  now  in  Trondhjem,  and  I 
like  it  better  and  better  every  day.  It  bristles  so  with 
memories  of  the  past,  and  yet  it  is  such  a  wide-awake, 
modem  city.  Our  old  friend,  Olaf  Tryggvesson,  founded 
it  in  996,  and  ever  since  then  the  'Norwegians  have  con- 
sidered it  the  heart  of  their  nation,  even  though  Chris- 
tiania  is  now  the  nominal  capital.  If  Trondhjem  is  the 
nucleus  of  Norway,  then  the  cathedral  is  the  nucleolus. 
The  Norwegians  appropriately  call  it  their  national 
thermometer.  It  has  been  burned  in  whole  or  in  part 
no  less  than  seven  times,  and  once  it  was  struck  by 
lightning  and  partly  destroyed.  It  was  built  originally 
by  King  Olaf  the  Quiet  in  the  eleventh  century,  and  after 
every  catastrophe  some  succeeding  king  has  rebuilt  it. 
If  it  happen  that  the  cathedral  has  not  been  destroyed 
for  several  decades,  the  people  occupy  themselves  with 
making  additions.  If  hard  times  come  to  Norway,  the 
cathedral  is  left  as  it  may  chance  to  be.  If  times  are 
prosperous,  money  is  given  by  state  and  private  sub- 
scription to  enlarge  or  beautify  it.    Just  now  times  are 


"  ,',    '.':> 


•        *   .. 


I 


Copyyiuhl  by  L'lulm.noJ  j^  f  ndrncnod ,   \     1 

Trondhjem  Cathedral. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  251 

prosperous,  and  strangely  enough  there  has  been  no  fire 
for  over  a  century.  Consequently  there  are  now  to  be 
seen  dozens  of  the  most  hideous  gargoyles  reposing  in 
one  part  of  the  church,  waiting  to  be  put  up. 

I  don't  suppose  you  have  any  idea  of  the  beauty  and 
grandeur  of  this  historic  Domkirke.  I  never  dreamed 
of  finding  anything  like  it  way  up  here  near  the  arctic 
circle.  We  Americans  get  into  the  habit  of  thinking 
that  Cologne  and  Milan  and  Rome  and  Florence  and 
one  or  two  other  places  of  continental  Europe  have  all 
that  is  worth  looking  at  in  the  line  of  cathedrals.  But 
this  Trondhjem  Dom  is  as  fine  as  any  of  them,  though 
much  smaller  than  most.  It  is  built  entirely  of  a  bluish, 
slaty  stone,  except  for  the  marble  pillars,  which  con- 
trast beautifully  with  the  blue.  It  is  a  masterpiece  of 
Gothic  architecture,  and  the  entire  church  is  as  deli- 
cately fashioned  as  any  in  Europe. 

My  British  author,  before  quoted,  says  of  it:  "This  is 
supposed  to  be  the  grandest  church  in  the  whole  of 
Scandinavia.  It  is  built  largely  of  bluish  soapstone  and 
white  marble,  and  it  is  mostly  Gothic  in  architecture. 
A  service,  apparently  for  children,  was  in  progress,  so 
we  were  not  able  to  walk  aroimd  the  interior."  I  am 
forced  to  think  that  the  gentleman  did  not  possess 
quite  the  average  amount  of  ingenuity,  or  he  might 
have  somehow  obviated  the  difficulty  and  seen  the  in- 
terior in  spite  of  the  service  "apparently  for  children." 
Well,  this  is  supposed  to  be  the  grandest  church  in  the 
whole  of  Scandinavia,  and  it  bears  out  the  supposition. 

To  me  its  greatest  interest  lies  in  its  history.    The 


252        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

one  great  king  particularly  associated  with  this  cathe- 
dral was  Olaf  the  Saint.  He  was  the  king  who  finally 
achieved  the  conversion  of  his  country  to  Christianity, 
and  because  of  his  devoted  life  and  heroic  death  at 
Stickles  tad  he  has  been  made  the  patron  saint  of  Nor- 
way. Cold,  relentless  history  reveals  the  fact  that  he 
was  not  in  reaUty  as  near  sainthood  as  Harald  the 
Good,  but  his  saintliness  was  of  a  more  romantic  char- 
acter and  appealed  to  the  imagination  of  the  people. 
After  spending  many  years  at  the  court  of  the  Russian 
king,  Jaroslav,  he  believed  that  he  was  called  by  a  vision 
to  go  back  to  Norway  and  attempt  to  complete  the  con- 
version of  his  native  land.  He  went  to  Sweden  and  col- 
lected all  the  men  he  could.  They  might  be  robbers 
and  outlaws,  but  they  must  be  baptized  Christians,  and 
he  was  courageous  and  consistent  enough  to  dismiss  a 
great  many  brave  soldiers  who  refused  to  be  baptized. 
At  Sticklestad,  in  Norway,  he  met  the  opposing  forces, 
but  was  beaten  and  finally  killed,  fighting  bravely  to 
the  last.  At  the  very  moment  when  he  was  slain,  there 
occurred  a  total  eclipse  of  the  sun.  "The  sim  grew 
blood-red,  and  a  strange  red  sheen  spread  over  the 
landscape.  Darkness  fell  upon  the  fighting  hosts,  and 
the  sun  grew  black." 

Of  course  nothing  more  than  this  was  needed  to  con- 
vince the  people  that  Olaf's  god  was  angry  with  them. 
Stricken  with  terror,  they  did  their  utmost  to  atone  for 
their  guilt.  They  later  built  a  great  cathedral  in  his 
honor.  They  made  him  the  national  saint,  and  they 
laid  his  bones  in  a  costly  silver  reliquary  in  the  cathe- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  253 

dral,  where  for  six  centuries  devout  pilgrims  visited  his 
shrine. 

Better  times  did  indeed  come  to  Norway  with  the 
introduction  of  Christianity,  but  some  centuries  later, 
when  the  countless  claimants  to  the  throne  had  ruined 
the  nation's  unity,  and  Denmark  had  taken  possession 
of  Norway  virtually  as  a  province,  Christianity  suffered 
a  horrible  relapse.  Denmark  introduced  into  Norway 
the  Reformation,  but  the  Danes  considered  their  Nor- 
wegian subjects  scarcely  worth  salvation.  They  sent 
to  Norway  the  very  lowest  scum  of  their  clergy.  As 
Boyesen  says,  *' Ex-soldiers,  ex-sailors,  bankrupt  traders, 
all  sorts  of  vagabonds,  who  were  in  some  way  disquali- 
fied for  making  a  living,  were  thought  to  be  good 
enough  to  preach  the  word  of  God  in  Norway.''  Just 
as  England  once  sent  its  criminal  class  to  AustraKa,  so 
Denmark  in  the  Middle  Ages  sent  its  vagabond  class 
to  Norway  in  the  form  of  Protestant  pastors.  For  a 
long  time  physical  strength  was  the  Norwegian  pastor's 
only  requisite.  As  a  general  rule  he  could  scarcely  read, 
and  cared  httle  or  nothing  for  the  religion  he  taught 
except  as  a  means  of  keeping  the  wolf  from  his  door; 
but  if  only  he  could  thrash  the  strongest  ruffian  in  his 
parish  he  was  sure  of  success. 

I  am  staying  at  the  Hospitset,  which  corresponds 
somewhat  to  the  hospitzes  or  Christian  hotels  in  Switzer- 
land and  Germany.  When  I  arrived  here  I  had  to  sign 
a  sort  of  register  that  seemed  to  me  unwarrantably  in- 
quisitive. It  must  know  my  name,  my  destination,  my 
last  previous  address,  my  permanent  address,  my  age. 


254        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

my  occupation,  and  I  don't  know  what  other  items  of 
gossip.  Some  of  the  guests  have  used  the  opportunity 
to  exercise  their  native  wit.  Exempli  gratia.  Michael 
O'Shaughnessy  writes  that  his  permanent  address  is 
care  of  the  king  of  Siam;  his  occupation,  pjumber;  his 
age,  thirty-two;  his  destination,  heaven.  Many  other 
humorists,  mostly  signing  themselves  under  obvious 
noms-de-plumej  have  thought  fit  to  enliven  the  dull 
pages  for  future  readers.  This  register  is  a  government 
institution,  at  least  in  many  places,  and  the  hotel 
keeper  must  not  be  blamed  for  such  inquisitiveness. 

The  food  in  this  Eospitset  is  excellent,  both  as  to 
quahty  and  quantity.  One  Norwegian  feature  of  the 
meals  is  the  cheese.  You  know  Norway  is  famous  for 
its  saeterSj  or  moimtain  dairies,  where  butter  and  cheese 
are  made.  The  most  delicious,  to  my  mind,  and  cer- 
tainly the  most  typically  Norwegian,  is  a  brown  cheese 
called  mysost.  It  looks  like  brown  Windsor  soap,  as 
EngUsh  authors  never  fail  to  remark,  and  it  is  sweetish. 
It  is  made  from  goat's  milk,  and  tastes  as  though  all 
the  cheese  part  had  been  extracted.  That  does  not 
sound  particularly  attractive,  perhaps,  but  honestly  I 
like  it  immensely.  A  great  cube  of  it,  measuring  some- 
thing less  than  a  foot  on  all  sides,  is  put  on  the  table, 
and  each  guest  is  supposed  to  pare  off  as  many  thin 
sUvers  of  it  as  he  can  eat.  It  is  most  delicious  when 
taken  with  Norwegian  fladbrdd.  This  is  a  sort  of  oat 
cake,  and  when  well  made  is  as  crisp  and  delicious  as 
anything  I  know  of  in  that  line. 

I  admit  that  both  the  mysost  and  the  fladbrdd  are 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  255 

somewhat  unique.  There  is  nothing  like  either  of  them 
in  England  or  America,  or  anywhere  except  in  Scandi- 
navia, and  unless  you  are  something  of  an  adventurer 
you  may  not  like  them  at  first.  Several  very  conserva- 
tive authors  write  most  disparagingly  of  it:  of  course 
they  do,  for  mysost  and  fladhrbd  are  new  to  them.  My- 
sost  they  liken  to  brown  soap,  "which  however  will  not 
lather."  Fladhrbd,  they  say,  "resembles  in  appearance 
and  consistency  old  boot-leather."  I,  personally,  have 
never  tasted  old  boot-leather  or  brown  soap,  but  if  it  is 
really  true  that  they  taste  like  fladhrbd  and  mysost^  then 
I  shall  begin  cultivating  my  appetite  for  them  as  soon 
as  I  get  home. 

I  have  met  a  good  many  of  the  Norwegians.  Most 
of  them  speak  English,  at  least  here  in  Trondhjem. 
Particularly  I  am  impressed  with  the  stateliness  and 
nobiHty  of  the  old  men.  You  have  seen  pictures, 
haven't  you,  of  Bjornstjeme  Bjornson,  and  Grieg,  and 
some  of  the  others.  Well,  they  are  typical.  I  have 
talked  with  several  of  these  old,  patriarchal  Norwegians, 
and  they  are  the  finest,  truest  gentlemen  you  can 
imagine.  Benevolence  and  good  will  seem  to  radiate 
from  them. 

Doctor  J.  D.  Forbes  calls  the  Norwegians  "a  free, 
intelligent,  and  fine-hearted  people,"  and  certainly  he 
is  right.  Another  author  finds  that  "sincerity,  honesty, 
and  freedom  from  conventional  cant  are  the  chief 
national  virtues."  If  you  combine  these  two  opinions 
you  will  come  near  to  describing  the  Norwegian  of 
to-day. 


2S6        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

The  other  day  I  hired  a  very  good  violin  at  a 
shop  here,  and  had  to  pay  the  exorbitant  sum  of  one 
kroner.  I  didn't  have  to  make  any  deposit,  and  the 
shopkeeper  asked  me  no  questions.  When  I  was  going 
out  he  inquired  at  what  hotel  I  was  staying.  I  told 
him,  and  he  said  in  EngUsh:  "Never  mind,  then, 
about  returning  the  violin.  I'll  come  around  to  the 
hotel  some  time  and  get  it."  Can  you  imagine  such 
confidence  in  any  other  country?  The  Norwegians  ex- 
pect you  to  trust  them,  and  in  return  they  trust  you. 

I  intend  to  go  to  Christiania  in  a  few  days  and  will 
write  to  you  from  there. 

As  always, 
Aylmer. 


T3 


o 


e  c     c    c    tt 


SEVENTH  LETTER 

Holmenkollen,  the  skiing  center  of  the  world;  the  throng  of  sport- 
seekers;  HohnenkoUen  Day;  the  stuff  from  which  Norsemen  are 
made;  Veidirektor  Krag;  Harald  Hardruler;  how  to  manufacture 
a  halo. 

Holmenkollen,  March  15. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  have  found  the  home  of  winter  sport.  Its  name  is 
HohnenkoUen.  Of  coun^e  all  Norway  is  known  as  the 
birthplace  of  the  ski,  and  Holmenkollen  is  the  sporting 
center  of  Norway.  To-day  a  heavy  mantle  of  fog  has 
settled  over  Christiania,  but  up  here  at  Holmenkollen 
we  don't  know  what  fog  means.  It  is  as  bright  and  crisp 
and  clear  as  possible.  Winter  has  not  thought  of  pass- 
ing the  first  flush  of  its  youth,  though  it  is  the  middle  of 
March.  It  is  often  good  skiing  here  imtil  the  end  of 
April. 

Every  day  and  many  times  a  day  the  electrics  from 
Christiania  bring  up  a  load  of  sport-seekers,  the  skis  and 
sleds  being  strapped  on  to  the  outside  of  the  car.  There 
is  a  winding  course,  five  miles  long,  which  is  crowded 
every  minute  of  these  long,  bright  afternoons  with  an 
endless  procession  of  boys  and  girls,  young  men  and 
maidens,  old  men  and  old  women,  on  skis  or  sleds 
or  toboggans.  Really  the  most  doddering,  toothless 
grandma  is  no  more  out  of  place  at  Holmenkollen  than 
the  toddling,  toothless  babe,  and  neither  of  these  two 


258        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

extremes  is  more  out  of  place  than  the  stalwart  youth  of 
"coUegy"  age  and  appearance.  Every  one  comes  to 
Holmenkollen.  If  you  are  a  beginner  and  can't  stand 
up  on  skis,  you  will  have  company,  and  if  you  are  a 
world's  champion  you  will  have  plenty  of  other  aspir- 
ants to  dispute  the  title  with  you. 

You  could  hardly  find  a  more  jimibled  and  hetero- 
geneous collection  of  humanity  anywhere  than  you  can 
find  any  bright  winter  afternoon  on  the  slopes  of  Hol- 
menkollen. I  have  just  been  out  for  an  hour  or  so, 
taking  an  "inventory"  of  the  sport-seekers.  It  was  an 
average  crowd,  and  I  must  describe  its  appearance  as  it 
sHd  by  my  place  of  inspection,  by  the  roadside. 

First  came  three  girls,  each  clad  in  most  brilliant 
sweaters,  and  each  on  a  separate  sled,  dragging  behind 
her  a  pole  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  long,  which  served 
as  rudder  and  also  as  brake.  After  a  Httle  pause  a  very 
buxom,  oldish  woman  appeared  around  the  bend  in  the 
course.  She  had  two  Httle  children  on  the  sled  with  her, 
who  were  fairly  chortling  with  delight.  A  solemn  old 
man  next  passed  by.  I  have  seldom  seen  a  face  which 
exhibited  such  profundity  of  thought  and  such  deep  con- 
centration on  his  occupation  as  the  face  of  this  old  man 
showed.  He  was  dragging  his  feet  so  hard  that  he  barely 
crept  along.  He  gave  the  appearance  of  being  absorbed 
in  a  very  dangerous  undertaking,  which  he  was  going  to 
"see  through"  if  it  killed  him. 

While  he  was  trundling  by,  a  pair  of  skiers  appeared, 
flying  at  tremendous  speed.  They  were  a  man  and  a 
woman,  and  the  most  graceful  pair  you  can  imagine. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  259 

They  swirled  around  the  corner,  and  when  they  came  to 
the  old  man  went  one  on  either  side,  making  a  bridge 
over  him  with  their  hands.  He  continued  on  his  pre- 
carious course  without  the  slightest  indication  that  he 
had  seen  them. 

The  next  in  the  procession  was  a  man  on  a  sled,  smok- 
ing a  pipe  as  he  went  and  actually  reading  a  paper. 
But  a  very  self-conscious  smile  betrayed  his  suspicion 
that  he  was  being  watched.  I  fear  he  was  guilty  of  an 
attempt  to ''  show  off."  Next  came  two  tottering  English 
girls  on  skis.  They  fell  every  few  yards,  and  as  they 
passed  me  one  of  them  reeled  and  tremblingly  cried: 
"Oh  dear,  I'm  going  again."  She  did  "go,"  and  I  had 
the  opportunity  of  rescuing  her.  She  said  "  tak  tak  "  very 
sweetly,  which  was  probably  all  the  Norwegian  she 
knew,  and  I  was  so  delighted  to  have  palmed  myself  off 
as  a  native  that  I  said  nothing  for  fear  of  spoiling  her 
illusion.  After  this  several  men  went  sailing  by  on  skis. 
They  turned  down  a  very  steep  side  path  and  whirled 
out  of  sight  like  Hghtning.  There  is  nothing  like  the 
beauty  and  grace  of  a  ski  artist  who  is  absolutely  sure  of 
himself.  His  knees  do  not  totter,  he  doesn't  reel  about, 
he  takes  the  turns  smoothly  and  easily  with  a  confidence 
which  is  wonderful  to  behold.  A  good  skier  seems  to  me 
nearer  to  a  bird  than  a  good  aeronaut. 

All  this  which  I  have  described  passed  by  my  station 
of  inspection  in  about  two  minutes,  and  the  kaleidoscope 
continued  hour  after  hour. 

The  greatest  sporting  day  of  the  year  is  what  is  called 
Hohnenkollen  Day.    Then  all  Chris tiania  adjourns  to 


26o        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

the  neighboring  hill.  The  shops  are  closed,  and  it  is 
virtually  a  holiday  for  all.  It  usually  comes  early  in 
March,  and  on  it  are  held  annually  the  greatest  contests 
in  Norway,  and  perhaps  the  greatest  in  all  Europe.  All 
the  best  ski  runners  and  ski  jumpers  from  all  over  Europe 
assemble  for  the  test.  The  most  coveted  prize  is  the 
King's  Prize,  which  is  given  for  the  best  aggregate  of 
marks  for  any  single  competitor  in  the  two  big  events, 
the  fifteen-kilometer  ski  race  and  the  ski  jump.  No  one 
who  does  not  compete  in  both  these  events  is  eligible  for 
the  King's  Prize.  The  fifteen-kilometer  race  is  held  on  the 
day  before  the  big  jumping  contest  and  is  comparatively 
iminteresting.  The  competitors  start  at  intervals  of 
thirty  seconds,  and  each  one  is  timed  separately.  There 
is  no  excitement  at  the  finish,  and  for  all  the  spectator 
can  tell  the  last  man  in  may  be  the  winner. 

On  the  big  day  the  crowds  begin  to  assemble  about 
eleven  o'clock,  though  the  contest  does  not  begin  for  two 
hours.  Boxes  are  built  all  along  the  side  of  the  jump  to 
accommodate  the  wealthy  aristocrats  who  can  afford  to 
pay  for  them.  Some  forty  thousand  "plebs"  take  their 
stand  aroimd  the  great  "horseshoe,"  which  is  roped  off 
as  a  landing  and  stopping  place  for  the  jumpers. 

Promptly  at  one  o'clock  a  tremendous  cheering  an- 
nounces the  arrival  of  King  Haakon,  Queen  Maud,  and 
little  Crown  Prince  Olaf.  This  trio  constitutes  the  first 
real  royalty  of  their  own  that  the  Norwegians  have  had 
for  five  or  six  centuries,  and  they  go  wild  with  enthusiasm 
whenever  any  one  of  the  party  appears  at  a  pubUc 
gathering.    Little  Prince  Olaf  is  all  but  worshiped  by 


3 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  261 

his  future  subjects,  and  if  they  don't  look  out  I  fear 
they  will  some  day  have  a  spoiled  crown  prince  on 
their  hands.  However,  he  seems  to  be  at  present  a  very 
natural  and  normal  boy. 

As  soon  as  the  royal  party  arrives,  the  jumping  begins, 
and  this  year,  though  there  were  fully  two  hundred 
competitors,  and  each  one  had  two  jumps,  the  whole 
contest  was  nm  off  in  a  little  over  two  hours.  Of  course 
that  meant  three  or  four  jumps  to  a  minute,  and  so  there 
was  a  steady  stream  swooping  down  from  the  hill  to  the 
take-off,  then  sailing  out  into  the  air  and  landing  a  hun- 
dred feet  or  so  down  the  slope,  where,  if  the  jump  was 
successful,  they  continued  their  course  at  express-train 
speed. 

Of  course  the  great  majority  of  the  jumpers  were 
Norwegians.  It  takes  years  and  years  of  practice  to 
become  skillful,  and  only  those  who  have  been  at  it 
since  babyhood  reach  the  highest  pinnacles  of  skill.  No 
matter  how  many  times  you  see  ski  jumping,  the  thrill 
never  seems  to  wear  off. 

As  each  jumper  took  his  place  at  the  top  of  the  hill, 
a  huge  munber  on  a  blackboard  announced  to  the  spec- 
tators who  was  coming.  All  the  competitors  were 
numbered,  as  they  are  in  races,  and  printed  Hsts  were 
distributed  for  the  convenience  of  the  onlookers. 

The  jumpers  would  come  tearing  down  the  hill  and 
crouch  low  as  they  approached  the  take-off.  Then,  with 
arms  outspread,  they  would  shoot  out  into  space,  straight- 
ening themselves  quickly  and  bending  forward.  While 
they  were  in  the  air,  they  would  put  one  ski  a  little  ahead 


262        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

of  the  other;  with  a  little  "spat"  the  skis  would  strike 
the  snow  far  down  the  slope;  agile  and  light  as  a  feather, 
the  jumper  would  sink  down  almost  on  his  heels,  and 
then,  if  he  kept  his  balance,  he  would  fly  ahead  for  a 
second  or  two,  then  make  a  beautiful  ''  Telemark  "  or 
Chris tiania  swing,  coming  to  a  dead  stop.  Telemark  and 
Christiania  are  in  skiing  parlance  two  methods  of  com- 
ing to  a  sudden  stop. 

As  I  understand  it,  a  Telemark  means  a  wide,  sweep- 
ing curve,  with  one  foot  considerably  in  front  of  the 
other,  while  the  Christiania  is  a  quick  snap  at  right 
angles  accomplished  by  a  sudden  swing  of  the  arms  and 
of  the  whole  body.  However,  nobody  quite  understands 
how  it  is  done  unless  he  has  been  practicing  it  half  a 
lifetime.  There  is  a  great  knack  about  it,  and  it  was 
beautiful  to  watch  the  ease  with  which  many  of  the 
jumpers  did  it. 

Of  course  there  were  unfortunates  who  fell.  There 
would  be  a  wild  whirl  of  arms  and  legs  and  skis  and 
snow,  and,  when  the  whirl  gradually  resolved  itself  into 
a  man,  he  would  crawl  to  one  side  to  get  out  of  the  way 
of  the  next  comer. 

The  distance  some  of  these  men  jump  is  appalling. 
A  leap  of  one  hundred  and  forty-eight  feet  such  as  that 
made  by  Harald  Smith  (a  Norwegian  in  spite  of  his 
surname)  is  certainly  more  like  flying  than  jumping. 

Compared  with  these  thrilling  exhibitions  the  mild 
daily  procession  down  the  five-mile  slope  of  Holmen- 
kollen  seems  rather  tame,  but  it  is  interesting  neverthe- 
less.   In  the  restaurant  here,  which  overlooks  the  city 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  263 

and  fjord  of  Christiania,  there  is  a  huge  picture  of 
Nansen.  He  was  once  a  competitor  in  ski  jumping, 
and  perhaps  it  was  here  that  he  developed  the  courage 
which  later  made  him  famous  the  world  over  as  an  ex- 
plorer. 

The  modern  Norwegians  have  inherited  their  love  of 
sport  from  their  viking  ancestors.  I  have  lately  been 
reading  in  Du  Chaillu's  The  Viking  Age  an  account  of 
viking  sports,  and  the  prowess  of  the  present-day  Nor- 
wegians is  explained  in  my  mind.  A  viking,  it  seems, 
had  to  be  athletic  if  he  would  amount  to  anything. 
Courage,  skill,  and  dexterity  were  the  necessities  of  his 
life. 

Once  there  was  a  viking  named  Kari  who  saved  his 
life  by  means  of  his  high-jumping  ability.  His  enemy 
Sigurdson  ran  at  him  with  a  spear  from  behind,  but 
Kari  saw  him  just  in  time,  jumped  high  in  the  air  so 
that  the  spear  went  under  his  feet,  and  then  came  down 
on  top  of  it,  smashing  the  handle. 

The  sagas  abound  with  tales  of  athletic  prowess,  and, 
even  if  these  sagas  were  apt  to  become  a  little  over  en- 
thusiastic in  deahng  with  their  heroes,  nevertheless  we 
can  see  easily  enough  how  it  is  that  the  modern  Nor- 
wegian comes  by  his  wonderful  athletic  skill  and  courage. 

Nansen  is  not  the  only  explorer  to  whom  Norway  does 
honor.  You  know  it  was  not  long  ago  that  Amundsen's 
name  was  on  all  lips,  because  of  his  discovery  of  the 
South  Pole.  He,  too,  has  the  stuff  in  him  of  which 
vikings  were  made. 

Up  near  the  top  of  this  five-mile  road  stands  a  bronze 


264        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

figure  leaning  carelessly  against  a  milestone.  He  rests 
his  bronze  fist  on  his  bronze  waistcoat,  and  a  bronze 
felt  hat  and  a  bronze  cane  complete  the  picture  of  calm 
self-satisfaction.  On  close  inspection  I  learned  that 
this  was  no  other  than  Veidirektor  Krag,  who  long 
ago  directed  the  building  of  this  road  and  now  stands 
contentedly  surveying  his  work.  Besides  having  a 
good  view  of  the  sports,  he  has  a  wonderful  prospect 
out  over  the  fjord  and  the  national  capital. 

If  Veidirektor  Krag  had  stood  there  four  or  five  cen- 
turies ago  he  would  have  seen  not  Christiania,  but  Oslo. 
Five  times  the  city  has  been  burned,  and  after  one  of 
its  destructions,  in  1624,  Christian  IV  rebuilt  it  and 
modestly  named  it  for  himself. 

The  original  Oslo  was  founded  for  a  very  practical 
purpose  by  Harald  Hardruler  in  105 1.  Oslo  was  in  the 
heart  of  the  province  of  Viken,  which  had  formerly 
belonged  to  Denmark  and  had  never  been  fully  amal- 
gamated with  Norway.  At  the  period  when  Harald 
ruled,  things  were  in  a  particularly  precarious  state  in 
Viken,  owing  to  the  fact  that  the  shrine  of  St.  Olaf,  in 
Trondhjem,  was  proving  a  magnet  and  drawing  pros- 
perity from  Viken  to  that  section  of  the  country.  Ac- 
cordingly the  practical  Harald  said  there  ought  to  be  a 
local  saint  in  Viken  —  a  saint  who  should  rival  Olaf 
and  make  Viken  as  important  a  center  as  Trondelag. 
He  soon  discovered  that  a  cousin  of  his,  named  Hall- 
vard,  had  recently  died,  and  was  said  to  have  been  a 
good  man.  Harald  decided  to  kill  several  birds  with 
one  stone.     By  creating  Cousin  Hallvard  a  saint  he 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  265 

could  bring  prosperity  to  Viken,  and  he  could  greatly 
hasten  the  unification  of  his  kingdom.  Therefore  he 
built  a  shrine  for  Hallvard,  after  first  canonizing  him 
(without  the  aid  of  the  pope),  and  around  the  shrine  he 
laid  the  foundations  of  the  city  of  Oslo.  As  an  historical 
fact,  Hallvard  was  scarcely  worthy  of  the  honor  which 
was  thrust  upon  him.  He  was  probably  rather  a  good 
man  for  those  times,  but  he  certainly  had  done  nothing 
unusual,  and  the  halo  which  was  thrust  about  his 
memory  was  a  masterpiece  of  human  ingenuity. 

I  expect  soon  to  go  over  to  the  Hanseatic  city  of  Ber- 
gen on  the  west  coast  of  Norway,  and  I  will  write  to 
you  from  there.    Auf  wiedersehen. 

As  ever, 
Aylmer. 


EIGHTH  LETTER 

Written  on  the  train  crossing  the  great  Christiania-Bergen  route. 
The  prophet  of  Norway;  Nicholas  Breakspeare ;  a  typical  Nor- 
wegian hotel;  the  Gogstad  ship  takes  us  back  a  few  centuries; 
Odin  as  poet;  the  practical  opening  of  the  Earlier  Frostathing's 
Law;  the  advertising  propensities  of  the  Norwegians;  the  liquor 
laws  of  Norway;  the  musical  Spirit  of  the  North;  Ole  Bull  and 
Edvard  Grieg. 

En  route.    Christiania  to  Bergen,  April  3. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

Again  I  seem  to  be  writing  to  you  from  a  train.  I 
have  traveled  all  day  over  one  of  the  finest  railroads, 
from  a  sightseeing  point  of  view,  in  all  Europe.  At  last 
darkness  is  settling  down,  and  I  have  several  hours  yet 
before  I  reach  Bergen,  so  I  may  as  well  employ  my  time 
in  writing  to  you,  not  that  I  write  to  you  on  principle 
only  when  there  is  nothing  else  to  do. 

I  am  traveling  on  a  circular  ticket  which  I  bought  at 
Trondhjem  of  Bennett,  "the  traveler's  guide,  philoso- 
pher, and  friend,"  as  Mr.  John  L.  Stoddard  styles  him 
in  one  of  his  lectures  on  Norway.  Bennett  is,  to  my 
mind,  the  final  authority  on  Scandinavian  travel.  In 
Norway  Thomas  Cook  is  dwarfed  into  insignificance  by 
Bennett.  The  same  lecturer  whom  I  have  quoted  goes 
on  to  say:  "And  who  is  Bennett?  you  perhaps  exclaim. 
My  friends,  there  is  but  one  Norway,  and  Bennett  is 
its   prophet.    Bennett   is   the   living   encyclopaedia   of 


NORWAY  AND   DENMARK  267 

Norway!  Its  walking  guide  book!  Its  animated  map! 
He  sketches  lengthy  tours  back  and  forth  as  easily  as 
sailors  box  the  compass!  And  to  still  further  aid  the 
general  pubKc,  he  has  begotten  four  young  Bennetts 
who  act  as  courteous  agents  for  their  father  in  Bergen, 
Trondhjem  and  Chris tiania." 

His  most  entertaining  guide  book  contains  testimo- 
nials from  various  celebrities.  Ex-President  Theodore 
Roosevelt  writes  a  typical  letter,  bursting  with  half- 
suppressed  energy  and  vehemence,  in  which  he  thanks 
the  prophet  of  Norway  for  his  courtesy.  Other  celebri- 
ties, such  as  the  Zemudar  of  Palavipat  (Judicia,  don't 
tell  me  you  never  heard  of  him!)  write  in  glowing  terms, 
and  one  anonymous  enthusiast,  with  a  poetic  turn  of 
mind,  writes: 

"  So  be  you  a  clerk  or  a  lord  of  the  Senate 
You'll  always  do  well  to  rely  upon  Bennett." 

I  seem  to  be  using  a  great  amount  of  stationery 
in  singing  the  praises  of  this  tourist  agency,  but 
really,  Judicia,  Bennett  is  one  of  the  "institu- 
tions" of  Norway.  Everywhere  appears  the  sign 
Benyt  BenneWs  Billetterj  which  command  I  have 
gladly  obeyed. 

I  should  have  told  you  before  that  in  coming  from 
Trondhjem  to  Christiania  we  passed  through  a  very 
interesting  historic  region,  the  district  of  which  Lake 
Mjosen  is  the  center.  A  few  miles  south  of  Lake  Mjosen 
is  Eidsvold,  where  the  famous  national  thing  was  held 
on  various  occasions. 

Christiania  is  distinctly  a  city  of  the  modern  type. 


268        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Scarcely  anything  venerable  remains.  I  stopped  while 
I  was  there  in  a  pleasant  though  modest  hotel  on  Carl 
Johan's  Gate.  Certainly  part  of  the  attraction  lay  in 
the  name,  for  it  is  called  Fru  Bye's  Hotel.  Right  across 
the  street  Fru  Bye's  daughters,  Froknerne  Bye,  keep  a 
Privat  Hotel.  What  a  pleasure  it  must  be  to  the  good 
Fru  to  have  the  Froknerne  in  business  right  across  the 
street.  The  freedom  of  Fru  Bye's  Hotel  is  delightful. 
Mealssare  apparently  served  at  all  hours.  Supposedly 
breakfast,  or  frukost,  comes  about  mid-forenoon;  dinner, 
or  middag,  from  two  till  four  o'clock;  and  supper,  or 
aftensmad,  from  eight  vmtil  ten.  On  several  occasions 
I  got  home  to  the  hotel  about  eleven  o'clock  and 
had  a  full  supper.  Everything  was  spread  out  for 
me  on  the  table,  including  mysost  and  fladbrod,  and 
no  one  was  hovering  around  anxiously  to  count  the 
number  of  pieces  I  ate,  or  the  number  of  glasses  of 
milk  I  drank. 

All  around  the  wall  are  hung  huge  old  copper  plat- 
ters, highly  ornamented.  The  whole  hotel  is  cozy  and 
typically    Norwegian. 

Carl  Johan's  Gate,  on  which  it  is  situated,  is  the  most 
important  street  in  the  city,  as  it  nms  straight  up  to 
the  royal  palace.  Not  far  from  the  palace  are  situated 
the  National  University,  the  National  Theater,  the 
Parliament  or  Storthing  building,  and  various  other 
public  buildings  very  similar  to  those  of  any  other 
European  capital.  The  city  has  suffered  so  frequently 
from  fire  that  it  has  given  up  the  picturesque  for  the 
substantial.    Among  other  buildings  of  particular  inter- 


The  Railroad  between  Bergen  and  Christiania. 


NORWAY  AND   DENMARK  269 

est  to  Americans  is  the  headquarters  of  the  Nobel  Peace 
Commission. 

There  is  only  one  place  (outside  of  Fru  Bye's  Hotel) 
in  all  Christiania  where  I  felt  I  was  truly  in  Norway 
rather  than  in  any  other  European  city.  That  was  when 
I  was  in  the  presence  of  the  famous  Gogstad  viking 
ship,  which  is  placed  in  a  shed  back  of  the  University. 
This  ship  was  found  near  the  entrance  to  the  Christiania 
fjord,  buried  in  blue  clay,  where  it  had  lain  for  a  thou- 
sand years  or  so,  and  it  convinced  me  that  the  marvelous 
tales  which  the  sagas  relate  are  tales  of  actual  heroes; 
for  certainly  the  sagas  did  not  invent  this  Gogstad  ship. 
In  the  center  is  the  Death  Chamber,  where  the  captain 
was  buried  in  his  beloved  ship.  Here  one  may  see  just 
how  the  viking  made  his  marauding  expeditions,  how 
the  oars  were  arranged  sixteen  on  a  side,  how  the  square 
sail  was  attached  by  means  of  pulleys  to  a  mast  fastened 
in  the  center,  and  how  the  rudder  was  attached  on  the 
right  side  (whence  "starboard"  or  steerboard).  The 
whole  ship  is  only  about  eighty  feet  long  and  sixteen 
feet  wide,  and  how  the  ancients  managed  to  navigate 
the  North  Sea  and  the  Bay  of  Biscay  and  sail  far 
around  into  the  Mediterranean  in  such  primitive  craft 
I  cannot  miderstand. 

In  this  old  Gogstad  ship  were  found  the  bones  of  a 
dozen  horses,  several  dogs,  and  a  peacock.  The  owners 
of  these  bones  were  to  be  the  chieftain's  bodyguard 
during  his  voyage  to  the  next  world.  Du  Chaillu  says 
of  this  ship: 

"Very  few  things  in  the  north  have  impressed  me 


270        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

more  than  the  sight  of  this  weird  mausoleum,  the  last 
resting  place  of  a  warrior,  and  as  I  gazed  on  its  dark 
timber  I  could  almost  imagine  that  I  could  still  see  the 
gory  traces  of  the  struggle  and  the  closing  scene  of  burial 
when  he  was  put  in  the  mortuary  chamber  that  had 
been  made  for  hun  on  board  the  craft  he  commanded." 
This  same  author  has  written  a  book  of  two  volumes 
of  some  twelve  hundred  pages  about  the  vikings,  and 
since  I  saw  the  Gogstad  ship  I  have  been  intensely  in- 
terested in  reading  of  their  customs.  Their  Bible  was 
a  long  poem  called  Hdvdmal,  supposed  to  have  been 
written  by  Odin  himself,  containing  much  worldly  wis- 
dom. Odin,  it  seems,  was  the  precursor  of  Horace 
Fletcher  as  an  advocate  of  "dietetic  righteousness."  He 
says: 

"A  greedy  man  "Herds  know 
Unless  he  has  sense  When  they  shall  go  home 

Eats  ill-health  for  himself;  And  then  walk  off  the  grass; 

A  fooUsh  man's  belly  But  an  unwise  man 

Often  causes  laughter  Never  knows 

When  he  is  among  wise  men.        The  measure  of  his  stomach." 

The  same  god  also  poses  as  an  authority  on  matters 

of  the  heart.    He  says: 

"The  words  of  a  maiden 
Or  the  talk  of  a  woman 
Should  no  man  trust; 
For  their  hearts  were  shaped 
On  a  whirling  wheel, 
And  fickleness  laid  in  their  breasts." 

Many  epigrammatic  gems  of  wisdom  the  poet  utters, 
under  the  name  of  Odin.  Most  of  them  have  rather  a 
cynical  turn,  such  as  the  following: 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  271 

"  A  day  should  be  praised  at  night; 
A  woman  when  she  is  burnt; 
A  sword  when  tried; 
A  maiden  when  she  is  married; 
Ice  when  crossed; 
Ale  when  drank." 

Many  other  quotations  from  the  old  Norse  writers 
are  extremely  entertaining.  The  first  item  in  the  Earlier 
Frostathing's  Law,  Section  I,  Article  I,  begins  in  a  very 
practical  way  with  the  following  words: 

"Every  child  which  is  born  into  this  world  shall  be 
raised,  baptized,  and  carried  to  the  church,  except  that 
only  —  whose  heels  are  in  the  place  of  his  toes,  whose 
chin  is  between  his  shoulders,  the  neck  on  his  breast 
with  the  calves  on  his  legs  turning  forward,  his  eyes  on 
the  back  of  his  head,  and  seal's  fins  or  a  dog's  head.  — 
It  shall  be  buried  in  the  churchyard  and  its  soul  shall 
be  prayed  for  as  well  as  is  possible." 

Apparently  there  used  to  be  considerable  doubt 
whether  a  deformed  child  could  be  legitimately  an  ob- 
ject for  prayer,  but  nevertheless  the  experiment  was  to 
be  tried. 

The  Norwegians  are  great  advertisers.  I  have  never 
seen  in  any  other  country  such  a  complete  utilization  of 
every  inch  of  available  space.  Inside  the  electric  cars 
layers  of  "ads,"  three  deep,  line  the  car  above  the 
windows.  A  clock  in  the  middle  of  the  car  is 
surroimded  by  them;  the  electric  lights  and  win- 
dows have  advertisements  wrought  into  their  very 
being.  Every  available  inch  and  much  that  we 
should  not  consider  available  is  used  to  instruct  the 


272        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

passenger  as  to  his  needs,  which  range  from  insur- 
ance companies  and  banks  all  the  way  through  cash 
registers  and  skates  and  lamp  chimneys  to  bananas 
and  margarine  and  Mellin's  Food. 

The  one  thing  which  it  is  difficult  to  get  in  Chris- 
tiania  is  Hquor  —  not  that  I  have  personally  tried  to 
get  any,  but  I  have  learned  through  my  oft-quoted 
British  author  that  he  found  it  very  difficult.  He  was 
considerably  annoyed  at  finding  himself  unable  to 
buy  whisky  anywhere  in  Christiania  from  i  p.m.  on 
Saturday  until  Monday  morning.  The  Uquor  laws  of 
Norway  are  very  strict  indeed,  and  cause  annoyance  to 
many  tourists,  who  find  themselves  deprived  of  their 
"nip."  However,  I  hope  they  remember  that  these 
laws,  which  have  been  enacted  in  the  last  thirty  or  forty 
years,  have,  in  a  great  degree,  reduced  drunkenness, 
poverty,  crime,  and  disease.  It  would  seem  that  a 
tourist  who  has  a  spark  of  unselfishness  in  him,  however 
much  he  may  long  for  his  cocktail,  would  not  grudge 
Norway  the  laws  that  have  proved  such  a  blessing  to 
the  whole  coimtry. 

Besides  forbidding  the  sale  of  liquor  on  Sundays  and 
hoUdays,  and  on  the  eve  of  festivals,  many  districts, 
under  government  permission,  have  absolutely  prohib- 
ited it.  There  is  not  a  saloon  in  Norway,  but  in  the 
larger  towns  a  few  of  the  hotels  and  restaurants  are 
allowed  to  sell  hquor  under  certain  restrictions.  All 
profits  from  its  sale,  with  the  exception  of  the  company's 
expenses  and  five  per  cent  interest,  must  be  devoted 
to  public  and  philanthropic  purposes.     Consequently 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  273 

the  trade  does  not  offer  great  inducements  to  ambitious 
merchants. 

My  train  has  already  passed  Voss  and  is  rapidly 
nearing  old  Hanseatic  Bergen,  and  I  have  not  even  be- 
gun to  tell  you  of  the  glories  of  this  day's  ride.  We  left 
Christiania  soon  after  daylight,  and  in  a  little  less 
than  three  hours  reached  the  town  of  Honefos,  which 
is  one  of  the  centers  of  the  Norwegian  wood-pulp 
industry.  There  is  a  great  mill  here  which  receives 
trees  in  its  capacious  maw  and  turns  them  out 
again  in  the  form  of  pulp.  Gigantic  letters  on  the 
side  of  a  barn  announce  that  from  here  comes  the 
pulp  which  eventually  is  made  into  Lloyd^s  Weekly 
and  the  London  Daily  Chronicle. 

A  little  farther  on  we  catch  a  glimpse  of  some  lofty 
pine  forests  which  inevitably  bring  to  mind  Milton^s 
lines: 

"His  spear,  to  equal  which  the  tallest  pine 
Grown  on  Norwegian  hills,  to  be  the  mast 
Of  some  great  admiral,  were  but  a  wand, 
He  walked  with." 

Soon  after  leaving  Honefos,  we  begin  to  climb  and 
leave  the  tall,  Norwegian  pine  and  even  the  scrubby, 
Norwegian  birch  far  below.  This  is  the  only  regular 
railway  in  Europe  which  travels  above  the  tree  line. 
To  get  beyond  the  tree  Ime  in  Switzerland,  the  railway 
would  have  to  reach  an  altitude  of  at  least  seven  thou- 
sand feet,  but  here  of  course  the  line  is  much  lower. 
The  resort  of  Finse  has  not  a  single  wild  tree  to  its  name, 
though  it  is  only  four  thousand  feet  above  sea  level. 


274        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Finse  is  the  most  unique  sporting  center  in  the  world, 
for  its  winter  season  lasts  from  August  i  to  July  31,  in- 
clusive. Every  year  there  is  held  a  Midsummer  Skiing 
Contest,  which  attracts  people  from  all  over  Europe. 
Here  one  may  ski  at  midnight  by  dayHght  on  soft, 
feathery  snow.  Of  course  it  is  too  far  south  to  afford  a 
midnight  sun,  but  it  is  not  too  far  south  to  afford  mid- 
night daylight. 

To-day  our  train  started  out  in  a  light  rain,  ran 
through  a  terrific  blizzard,  and  into  a  bright,  simlit 
afternoon.  I  have  never  seen  such  concentrated  essence 
of  winter  as  I  saw  at  Finse.  The  snow  must  have  been 
four  or  five  feet  deep  on  the  average,  and  in  drifts  it 
was  ten  or  twelve  feet  deep.  Finse's  freight  house  was 
buried;  a  big  white  moimd  showed  where  it  ought  to 
be,  and  where  it  might  some  day  appear  if  the  sun,  by 
its  heat,  or  men,  by  their  shovels,  ever  attained  energy 
enough  to  remove  the  white  shroud.  Giant  snow  plows 
kept  the  track  clear,  and  our  train  ignored  the  blizzard. 
We  "skirted"  several  invisible  valleys,  absolutely  shut 
out  by  the  driving  snow,  and,  as  Baedeker  would  say, 
"threaded"  several  timnels,  and  to  my  infinite  surprise 
emerged  from  one  of  them  into  a  bright,  sunny  after- 
noon at  Myrdal.  We  had  passed  the  highest  point  of 
the  line  and  had  left  our  blizzard  on  the  other  side  of 
the  watershed. 

From  Myrdal  I  could  look  far,  far  down  the  Flaam 
Valley,  which  is  one  of  the  finest  in  Norway.  Here  and 
there,  clinging  to  the  rocky  sides  of  the  valley,  were 
saeter  huts.    It  would  be  easy  enough  for  one  of  the 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  275 

milkmaids  to  "fall  out  of  her  saeter^'^  as  the  peasant  of 
Mark  Twain  fame  once  "fell  out  of  his  farm." 

Whenever  I  think  of  a  saeter,  my  mind  invariably 
jumps  to  the  romantic  figure  of  Norway's  greatest  vio- 
linist, Ole  Bull.  Are  you  acquainted  with  a  plaintive 
Norwegian  air  called  Saeterjentens  Sondag?  You  must 
have  heard  it,  even  though  you  may  not  recognize  it 
by  name.  Well,  that  was  written  by  the  great  Ole  Bull, 
and  it  is  imquestionably  the  most  familiar  and  the  most 
beloved  of  Norway's  national  melodies.  Ole  Bull  was 
born  at  Bergen,  so  I  am  less  than  a  half -hour's  journey 
from  the  place  which  this  musician,  whose  tones  thrilled 
all  Europe  and  America,  called  home. 

He  is  not  the  only  musician  who  achieved  world-wide 
fame,  with  Norway  as  a  starting  point.  Every  one  who 
loves  music  knows  Grieg's  famous  Peer  Gynt  Suite,  with 
its  Anitra's  Dance,  which  seems  to  reflect  the  wild,  free 
spirit  of  the  north.  Nordraak  and'Kjerulf  and  many 
other  lesser  musical  lights  have  made  all  the  world  fa- 
miHar  with  the  music  of  the  northland. 

I  must  "pack  up"  now,  as  we  are  fast  nearing  Bergen. 
I  shall  be  in  an  atmosphere  there  almost  as  historical  as 
that  of  Trondhjem,  so  if  some  history  creeps  into  my 
next  letter  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me.  I  shall  write 
you  soon  from  there. 

As  ever  yours, 
Aylmer. 


NINTH  LETTER 

Bergen,  a  Hanseatic  city;  an  interesting  museum;  "Little  Sir 
Alf  " ;  the  greatest  military  genius  Norway  ever  had;  the  struggle 
between  **Birchlegs"  and  **Baglers";  further  historical  con- 
nections of  Bergen;  Haakon  Haakonsson. 

Bergen,  May  i. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

I  am  comfortably  situated  in  Hotel  Norge,  on  Ole- 
Bulls-Plads.  Directly  beneath  my  window  stands  Ole 
Bull  himself,  continually  though  silently  playing  his 
violin,  through  rain  and  hail  and  snow  and  vapor  and 
stormy  wind.  Bergen  is  a  thoroughly  old-world  city. 
To  be  sure,  it  has  a  modern  section,  but  the  whole  flavor 
of  the  place  is  ancient.  Like  all  other  towns  in  Norway, 
it  has  suffered  time  after  time  from  fire,  but,  strangely 
enough,  it  has  been  built  up  on  the  old  lines.  Another 
thing  that  lends  a  flavor  of  antiquity  is  the  fact  that  it 
is  surrounded  (supposedly)  by  seven  hills,  like  the  seven 
hills  of  Rome,  though  it  is  an  unfortunate  geographical 
fact  that  there  are  not  seven  but  four  in  the  case  of 
Bergen.  Of  course  there  are  countless  little  uneven- 
nesses  in  the  ground,  some  of  which  might  even  be  called 
hillocks.  With  more  romance  than  accuracy  the  citizens 
have  selected  three  of  these  mounds,  added  them  to 
their  four  real  hills,  and  put  seven  on  their  armorial 
bearings. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  277 

There  is  a  wide  street,  which  assumes  the  proportions 
and  name  of  a  square,  which  separates  the  old  town 
from  the  new  and  also  serves  in  the  capacity  of  fire  road. 
When  we  cross  this  square,  which  bears  the  name  of 
Torv-Ahnenning,  we  are  in  fairyland —  a  dirty,  medie- 
val, Hanseatic  fairyland.  The  streets  are  very  narrow, 
and  the  white  timber  houses  with  their  red-tiled  roofs 
certainly  lay  claim,  along  with  the  Lofoten  Islands  and 
the  Damascus  rag  fair  and  the  Nile  dahabiyeh,  to  the 
right  of  being  called  picturesque.  The  vaagen,  or  har- 
bor, is  inclosed  on  all  sides  by  ancient  warehouses,  sug- 
gesting fish.  At  the  end  of  the  harbor  is  a  market, 
where  fish  are  sold  with  considerable  bargaining. 

A  great  part  of  Norway's  fish  trade  passes  through 
Bergen,  though  the  principal  reason  for  this  seems  to  lie 
in  the  fact  that  it  always  has  been  so.  Formerly  it  was 
compulsory.  The  German  merchants  settled  in  Bergen 
and  succeeded  in  gaining  an  absolute  monopoly  on  the 
trade,  which  they  maintained  for  nearly  three  centuries. 
At  one  end  of  the  market  lies  the  Hanseatic  House,  now 
made  into  a  museum.  It  is  the  only  genuine  house  of 
its  kind  now  in  existence,  anywhere,  and  gives  a  good 
idea  of  the  manner  in  which  these  selfish  old  merchants 
conducted  their  business.  Here  we  find  the  merchant's 
office  and  his  manager's  bureau,  the  clerk's  apartments, 
and  even  the  conmion  bedroom.  An  old  ledger  is  ex- 
hibited, which,  as  Goodman  says,  "contains,  no  doubt, 
the  record  of  many  a  fraudulent  transaction."  The 
whole  house,  inside  and  out,  is  profusely  ornamented 
and  painted  in  lurid  colors,  which  make  not  the  slightest 


278        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

pretense  of  harmonizing.  All  sorts  of  articles  are  exhib- 
ited, which  formerly  made  up  the  merchant's  office  and 
household  property,  "such  as  their  scales  and  weights, 
the  latter  [here  a  little  sidelight  on  Hanseatic  methods] 
being  of  two  sorts,  for  buying  and  selling;  their  cloaks, 
lanterns,  candlesticks,  fire  engines,  snuff  boxes,  washing 
bowls,  drinking  cups  and  tankards,  machines  for  chop- 
ping cabbage,  and  staves  with  bags  for  making  collec- 
tions in  church." 

The  arms  of  the  leaguers  were  half  an  eagle  and  half 
a  codfish,  or  a  cornucopia  with  a  cod  supplanting  the 
usual  fruit  or  flowers. 

The  merchants  trusted  each  other  no  more  than  they 
trusted  outsiders,  and  their  strong-box  is  fitted  with 
three  locks,  the  keys  to  which  were  possessed  by  three 
different  members  of  the  league. 

These  ''crooks"  were  very  modest  about  some  things. 
Their  bedrooms  were  arranged  in  a  peculiar  way,  with 
the  beds  along  the  side  of  the  wall,  each  bed  opening 
out  through  a  sort  of  lattice  work  to  a  main  corridor. 
This  was  to  enable  the  female  domestic  to  make  the 
gentleman's  bed  without  having  to  enter  his  room. 

The  German  merchants  of  the  league  grew  more  in- 
solent as  they  grew  more  powerful,  and  they  used  to 
swagger  around  the  quays,  beating  and  bullying  the 
native  Norwegians  who  chanced  to  be  in  their  way.  It 
is  with  peculiar  delight  that  I  read  of  a  trick  played  on 
them  by  the  notorious  pirate,  the  Norwegian  Baron  Alf 
Erlingsson,  called  "Little  Sir  Alf."  He  was  as  bold  in 
spirit  as  he  was  diminutive  in  stature,  and  he  became  a 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  279 

constant  terror  to  the  Hanseatic  merchants,  because  of 
the  depredations  he  committed  upon  them.  They  tried 
by  every  means  in  their  power  to  get  him  into  their 
hands,  but  he  always  outwitted  them.  As  Boyesen  says: 
"It  was  of  no  use  that  the  league  sent  out  ships  of  war 
to  capture  him;  he  outmaneuvered  them,  deceived  them, 
sent  them  on  a  wild-goose  chase,  and  ended  by  captur- 
ing his  would-be  captors." 

As  a  final,  crowning  insult,  he  one  day  appeared  in- 
cognito in  an  open  boat  and  bargained  with  them  about 
the  price  set  upon  his  head.  It  is  a  sad  fact  that  later 
the  little  pirate^s  luck  deserted  him.  He  was  captured 
and  brought  before  Queen  Agnes  of  Denmark.  On  his 
arrival  before  this  lady,  she  twitted  him  mercilessly 
about  his  size.  He  blazed  out  in  return  that  she  would 
never  live  to  see  the  day  when  she  could  bear  such  a 
son,  at  which  the  queen  furiously  ordered  him  to  be  put 
to  death  by  way  of  the  rack  and  wheel. 

There  is  an  old  cathedral  here,  which  the  Bergeners 
proudly  point  out  as  the  home  of  the  Reformation  when 
it  first  reached  Norway.  Perhaps  you  might  not  think 
this  anything  to  be  very  proud  of,  in  view  of  what  I 
told  you  in  one  of  my  other  letters  about  the  introduc- 
tion of  the  Reformation  from  Denmark.  But  Bergen 
does  have  a  right  to  be  proud,  for  it  was  here  that 
Bishop  Gjeble  Pedersson  lived  and  finally  succeeded  in 
educating  a  good,  native  Norwegian  clergy,  which 
gradually  supplanted  the  abominable  class  Denmark 
sent. 

Denmark's  treatment  of  Norway  in  matters  of  religion 


28o        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

was  only  a  sample  of  her  treatment  of  Norway  in  all 
matters.  King  Christian  I  wished  to  arrange  a  marriage 
between  James  III  of  Scotland  and  his  daughter  Mar- 
garet, but,  as  he  did  not  happen  to  have  sufficient  money 
in  his  exchequer  to  supply  the  customary  dowry,  he 
promptly  pawned  the  Orkneys  for  fifty  thousand  gul- 
den, and  the  Shetland  Isles  for  an  additional  sum.  Thus 
poor,  downtrodden  Norway  lost  her  island  possessions, 
which  she  had  colonized  and  held  for  ages.  It  was  a 
cruel  blow,  and  the  land  mourned  as  for  the  loss  of  her 
own  children. 

To  the  northwest  of  Bergen  is  an  interesting  tower 
called  Sverresborg,  named  for  Sverre  Sigurdsson,  the 
most  romantic  figure  in  all  Norwegian  history,  and  cer- 
tainly the  country's  greatest  king,  from  the  point  of 
view  of  pure  genius.  For  thirty  years,  at  the  end  of  the 
twelfth  century,  the  history  of  Norway  is  the  history 
of  Sverre.  Bergen  is  more  closely  associated  with  him 
than  any  other  town  in  Norway,  for  it  was  here  that 
the  ''Birchlegs"  and  the  "Baglers,"  with  whom  he  was 
so  closely  identified,  fought  for  a  whole  simmier. 

Sverre  was  born  in  the  Faroe  Isles  at  a  time  when 
Norway  was  absorbed,  as  usual,  in  a  red-hot  dispute 
over  the  succession  to  the  throne.  Sverre's  father  had 
been  King  Sigurd  Mouth,  and  his  mother,  whose  name 
was  Gunhild,  had  been  cook  in  the  king's  service,  if  the 
saga  is  true.  At  any  rate,  she  was  a  very  sharp-witted 
woman,  and  kept  his  royal  parentage  secret  from  every 
one,  even  from  the  boy  himself.  Magnus  Erligsson 
occupied  the  throne  of  Norway  and  made  every  effort 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  281 

to  exterminate  the  race  of  Sigurd  Mouth.  He  heard 
that  there  was  an  illegitimate  son  of  old  Sigurd  in  the 
Faroes,  and  he  sent  a  spy  named  Unas  to  kill  the  child. 
Gunhild  cleverly  averted  this  danger  by  inducing  Unas 
to  marry  her  and  become  the  child's  stepfather.  She 
was  in  the  service  of  Bishop  Matthias  as  a  milkmaid, 
and  she  brought  up  her  son  with  the  idea  that  he  should 
become  a  priest. 

It  so  happened  that  when  Sverre  was  a  young  man 
there  was  in  Norway  a  pretender  named  Eystein  Little- 
Girl.  He  certainly  did  not  earn  his  nickname  through 
his  shyness  in  pushing  his  claims.  He  organized  a  small 
rebel  band  of  brave  outlaws  and  robbers,  who  succeeded 
in  having  him  proclaimed  king.  Soon  after,  however, 
Eystein  Little- Girl  was  killed,  and  his  miserable  band 
of  supporters,  who  had  come  to  be  called  ^'Birchlegs," 
because  of  their  dilapidated  appearance  and  their  birch- 
bark  shoes,  seemed  destined  to  pass  out  of  existence. 
They  sought  a  new  leader,  and  at  this  point  Sverre  ap- 
peared on  the  scene.  They  invited  him  to  become  their 
leader,  and  he  accepted. 

With  this  ragged  little  band  of  outlaws,  numbering 
less  than  a  hundred,  Sverre  set  out  to  gain  the  throne 
of  Norway,  and  in  the  end  he  succeeded.  For  long  he 
roamed  about,  like  Robin  Hood  with  his  merry  men. 
He  would  "drop  in"  on  a  country  festival  and  scare 
the  people  so  that  they  fled,  whereupon  he  and  his 
merry  men  would  sit  down  to  a  comfortable  banquet. 

However,  this  was  more  by  way  of  a  practical  joke, 
enforced  by  hunger,  than  by  any  real  cruelty,  for  Sverre 


282        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

was  by  nature  extremely  merciful.  On  one  occasion, 
when  he  and  his  Birchlegs  were  crossing  a  mountain 
lake  on  rafts,  he  himself  started  out  on  the  last  one,  but 
when  he  was  some  distance  from  shore  a  poor  comrade, 
who  was  nearly  dead  and  was  being  left  behind,  called 
piteously  to  be  taken  along.  Although  every  raft  was 
crowded  to  its  utmost  capacity,  Sverre  went  back  and 
got  the  dying  man.  The  raft  was  so  overloaded  that 
he  now  had  to  stand  up  to  his  knees  in  icy  water,  but 
he  did  finally  reach  the  other  shore.  It  is  reported  that 
when  Sverre's  foot  left  the  raft  (he  was  the  last  man  to 
disembark),  it  sank  out  of  sight.  His  followers  regarded 
this  as  a  miracle,  and  it  filled  them  with  hope. 

Amid  incredible  hardships  he  fought  his  way  to  the 
throne,  and  he  became  so  formidable  that  nurses 
throughout  all  Norway  used  to  scare  bad  boys  by  say- 
ing that  Sverre  would  catch  them  if  they  didn't  watch 
out. 

In  1 195  the  Byzantine  Emperor  Alexius  had  a  quarrel 
on  his  hands  and  sent  an  ambassador,  Reidar,  to  col- 
lect from  Norway  two  hundred  mercenaries.  Reidar 
collected  his  force  and  was  prepared  to  return,  when 
Bishop  Nicholas,  who  hated  Sverre  with  almost  insane 
malignity,  persuaded  him  to  turn  his  attention  to  the 
task  of  wiping  out  the  powerful  Birchlegs.  Accordingly 
these  two  hundred  mercenaries  were  formed  into  the 
famous  band  called  ''Baglers"  (crookmen,  from  bagall,  a 
bishop's  crook  or  staff).  The  historic  war  between  the 
Baglers  and  the  Birchlegs  centered  around  Bergen. 

I  climbed  Floifjeldet  the  other  day,  one  of  Bergen's 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  283 

four  real  hills,  and  as  I  looked  down  on  the  city  I  could 
seem  to  see  the  whole  struggle  between  Birchlegs  and 
Baglers.  But  that  was  not  the  only  famous  struggle 
which  took  place  in  Bergen,  and  Sverre's  is  not  the  only 
great  name  closely  associated  with  it.  Here,  in  Christ 
Church,  Haakon  Haakonsson  was  crowned  on  St.  Olaf's 
Day,  July  29,  1247.  On  this  occasion  a  continuous  ban- 
quet was  held  for  three  days,  for  which  function  a  huge 
boathouse  was  "commandeered,"  as  the  palace  was 
not  large  enough  for  the  guests.  It  was  the  most  splen- 
did feast  that  had  ever  been  held  in  Norway,  and  after 
the  banquet  a  five-day  fete  was  held  in  honor  of  the 
cardinal.  At  this  fete  Ordeals  were  forever  abolished, 
on  the  very  excellent  ground  that  "it  was  not  seemly 
for  Christian  men  to  challenge  God  to  give  his  verdict  in 
human  affairs." 

Another  reform  was  introduced,  excluding  from  the 
royal  succession  all  illegitimate  sons  —  in  the  future.  In 
putting  forward  this  reform,  Haakon  Haakonsson  must 
have  made  an  effort  to  forget  that  he  himself  was  an 
illegitimate  son  of  King  Haakon  Sverresson. 

His  father,  who  was  a  son  of  the  great  Sverre,  as  his 
name  indicates,  had  been  foully  murdered  by  his  step- 
mother, the  dowager  queen  Margaret.  This  dowager 
queen  had  stolen  away  Christina,  Sverresson's  half- 
sister.  As  Sverresson  was  her  legal  protector,  he  tried 
in  every  way  to  get  her  back.  Argument  and  pleading 
proving  vain,  he  resorted  to  stratagem.  He  sent  his 
cousin,  Peter  Steyper,  who  "burst  into  the  princess' 
room  while  her  mother  was  taking  a  bath,  crying  at  the 


284        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

top  of  his  voice  that  the  Baglers  had  come  to  town/' 
Christina  was  terrified,  but  Steyper  told  her  not  to  fear, 
as  he  would  save  her.  He  took  her  in  his  arms  and 
fled  to  the  wharves,  where  he  hustled  her  aboard  his 
ship.  The  dowager  queen  soon  discovered  the  trick 
and  dashed  down  to  the  water's  edge  in  the  most  scan- 
dalous decollete.  She  reached  it  just  as  the  ship  pulled 
off  and  for  a  long  time  vainly  screamed  curses  after  it. 
However,  she  took  a  glorious  revenge  by  inviting  her 
stepson  to  a  banquet  of  peace  and  there  poisoning  him. 

Interesting  as  is  the  history  of  Norway,  it  is  to  say 
the  least  "strenuous,"  and  it  is  rather  a  relief  if  you  have 
been  on  Floifjeldet,  dreaming  of  Sverre  and  Haakons- 
son,  to  come  down  into  Bergen's  quiet,  old-fashioned 
market,  where  there  are  no  Birchlegs  and  no  Baglers 
now.  The  name  " Bergen,"  or  Bjorgvin,  means  "pasture 
on  the  mountains,"  and  seems  to  suggest  a  restfulness 
with  which  history  has  not  always  favored  the  city. 
Many  of  the  fisherwomen,  or  fiskerpiger,  in  the  market 
place  are  gayly  dressed  in  some  of  the  varied  forms  of 
the  national  costimie.  However,  I  imderstand  that  the 
costumes  are  so  much  gayer  and  more  conspicuous  in 
the  Hardanger  and  Saetersdal  regions  that  I  think  I  will 
wait  until  I  get  there  before  I  tell  you  about  them. 
I. have  not  yet  seen  any  of  the  well-known  fjords,  though 
I  doubt  if  there  is  anything  much  finer  in  that  line  than 
the  Ofotenfjord  at  Narvik. 

I  do  not  know  when  or  from  where  I  shall  write  to 
you  again,  but  it  will  be  from  somewhere  among  the 
fjords,  as  no  one  could  really  feel  the  full  spell  of  Nor- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  285 

way,  I  suppose,  without  exploring  the  famous  Hardanger 
and  Sogne  and  some  of  the  others.  Another  place  which 
I  want  surely  to  see  before  I  leave  Norway  is  the  famous 
Saetersdal  in  the  south.  It  is  here  I  understand  that 
one  may  find  the  past  par  excellence — not  history,  for 
Saetersdal  is  not  a  particularly  historic  region,  but  the 
customs  and  manners  and  dress  and  general  character- 
istics of  the  Norwegians  of  a  few  centuries  back. 

It  may  be  some  time  before  I  shall  write  again,  as 
there  is  much  to  see  and  much  to  explore.  In  the  mean- 
time please  prepare  yourself  to  chalk  up  many  points 
for  Norway,  for  its  fjords  and  its  dalSj  as  you  know,  are 
among  its  chief  claims  to  distinction. 

Yours  as  ever, 
Aylmer. 


TENTH  LETTER 

Norwegian  fjord  scenery;  the  "Seven  Sisters"  and  "Pulpit  Rock^*; 
a  comparison  of  the  Sogne  and  Hardanger  type  of  beauty;^ a 
drowned  village ;  the  cliff ,  Homelen ;  the  "City  of  Roses";  Bjom- 
stjeme  Bjomson;  over  the  Romsdal-Gudbrandsdal  route  by  car- 
riole; an  atmospheric  kaleidoscope;  the  land  of  the  "fos";  some 
Norwegian  characteristics  illustrated  by  the  "skydsgut";  the 
"  saeter  "  huts  on  the  "fjeld  " ;  Norwegian  fauna;  the  terror  of  a 
lemming  raid;  **  into  the  valley  of  death  rode  the  six  hundred" ; 
a  strange  shipwreck;  the  giants  of  the  Sogne;  Balholm  and 
LfOngfellow;  Leif  Eriksson;  "The  Skeleton  in  Armor." 

Marok,  Geiranger  Fjord,  June  27. 
My  dear  Judicia, 

Have  you  ever  seen  the  ocean  so  still  that  there  was 
not  a  single,  tiniest  wind-made  ripple  on  it;  when  a 
rowboat  left  a  broadening  wake  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
long,  and  when  the  circhng  sea  gulls  could  signal  to 
their  images  beneath?  If  not,  I  wish  you  could  trans- 
port yourself  by  telegraph  here  to  Marok.  Here  in 
this  quiet,  mountain-guarded  Geiranger  Fjord,  eighty 
miles  or  so  from  the  open  sea,  it  is  even  calmer  than  the 
proverbial  mill  pond.  It  is  not  the  stagnant  calm  of  the 
mill  pond  either,  suggesting  green  slime  and  malarial 
gases,  but  a  clear,  fresh,  healthy  calm,  suggesting  only 
peace  and  shelter  from  the  elements.  Probably  the 
fjord's  surface  will  not  long  be  left  unmolested.  Soon 
a  breeze  will  come  creeping  around  the  turn  of  the 
Sunelvsfjord,  or  down  the  dal,  from  the  frozen  Lake 
Djupvand. 


Copyright  by  Underwood  o?*  Underwood,  N.  Y 


Across  the  Glassy  Geirangerfjord. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  287 

My  purpose  in  this  letter,  Judicia,  is  not  to  take  you 
on  the  "best  trip  in  Norway,"  or  indeed  on  any  trip. 
Countless  trips  have  been  carefully  planned  and  then 
as  carefully  written  up  for  the  assistance  of  future 
travelers  and  for  the  benefit  of  tourist  agencies.  I  shall 
simply  take  you  as  though  you  were  a  chessman  and 
put  you  on  whatever  spot  I  choose.  I  hope  you  will 
not  rebel  at  such  autocratic  treatment,  for  I  shall  try 
to  make  the  best  moves  I  can.  If  you  suddenly  find 
yourself  moved  from  one  fjord  or  dal  to  another  without 
the  assistance  of  steamer  or  train  or  Norges  Communica- 
tionerj  or  anything  but  pure  imagination,  I  hope  you 
will  accept  the  move  in  good  faith.  You  know  it's 
yours  as  a  reader  not  to  question  why,  yours  not  to 
make  reply,  etc.  I  hope  the  places  I  describe  will  be 
their  own  reply. 

Geiranger  (please  consult  a  map  if  you  would  know 
where  it  is)  is  probably  oftener  described  and  more 
praised  than  almost  any  other  fjord  in  Norway,  though 
it  seems  to  me  absolutely  impossible  to  pick  out  any 
single  fjord  for  first  prize.  Perhaps  Geiranger  would 
not  receive  so  much  attention  were  it  not  for  its  famous 
"Seven  Sisters  "  and  "Pulpit  Rock."  The  Seven  Sisters 
are  seven  branches  of  a  waterfall  which  drops  hundreds 
of  feet  sheer  into  the  fjord.  As  was  the  case  with  Bergen 
and  its  hills,  it  is  an  unfortunate,  prosy,  geographical  fact 
that  there  are  only  four  real  branches  to  the  waterfall; 
but  three  little  wisps  of  spray  up  at  the  top  separate 
slightly  and  give  a  somewhat  plausible  pretext  for  the 
name.    Directly  opposite  the  Seven  Sisters  is  a  project- 


288        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

ing  rock  of  most  striking  appearance,  which  would 
make  an  excellent  pulpit  if  the  preacher  desired  to 
address  a  vast  audience  of  screaming  sea  gulls,  but  the 
pulpit  is  so  high  in  air  and  so  inaccessible  that  any- 
other  audience  would  be  impossible. 

There  is  one  house  which  occupies  a  nook  on  the  side 
of  one  of  these  lofty  cliffs  in  Geiranger  Fjord  in  such  an 
inaccessible  spot  that  formerly  the  only  method  of 
reaching  it  was  by  a  rope,  lowered  by  a  member  of  the 
household.  More  recently,  however,  a  flight  of  steps 
has  been  cut  in  the  rock.  It  is  often  said  that  at  some 
of  these  Httle  houses  the  children  are  tethered,  in  order 
to  prevent  their  falling  down  into  the  fjord. 

Before  I  go  any  farther,  Judicia,  I  must  tell  you  some- 
thing about  the  Norwegian  fjords  in  general.  Like  so 
many  other  portions  of  the  globe,  Norway  traces  its 
peculiar  formation  to  the  grinding,  irresistible  glaciers 
of  the  ice  age.  While  the  actual  coast  hne  of  Norway  is 
about  seventeen  hundred  miles,  the  distance  is  increased 
to  twelve  thousand  if  all  the  indentations  are  added, 
so  that  the  fjords  alone  have  a  coast  line  which  would 
stretch  nearly  halfway  around  the  world.  Also  some 
of  them  are  very  deep,  the  Sogne  showing  a  depth  of 
nearly  a  mile  in  some  places  far  inland.  There  are 
several  fjords  which  stand  out  with  particular  promi- 
nence, not  that  they  are  necessarily  finer  than  others, 
but  because  they  are  more  accessible.  The  most  south- 
erly fjord  to  achieve  fame  is  the  Hardanger;  then,  going 
north,  the  Sogne,  the  Nord,  the  Hjorund,  the  Geiranger, 
and  the  Molde.    One  author,  who  signs  himself  0.  W.  F., 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  289 

thus  vividly  contrasts  the  great  Hardanger  and  Sogne: 
".  .  .  whereas  the  mountains  of  the  Sognefjord  are 
knit  together  in  mighty  knots,  those  of  Hardanger  shoot 
in  straight,  slim  peaks  from  the  bottom  of  the  fjord, 
higher  and  higher,  until  at  last  they  end  in  glittering 
glaciers.  Whereas  the  Sognefjord  is  wild,  Hardanger  is 
deep  blue  and  tranquil." 

But  the  Nordf  jord  is  not  like  either.  The  mountains 
do  not  rise  continuously  to  a  lofty  tableland,  but  at 
intervals,  in  sharp,  isolated  peaks.  No  fjord  is  quite 
like  another,  and  I  cannot  sympathize  with  the  tourists 
who  complain  that  Norwegian  scenery,  even  in  its 
grandeur,  is  monotonous.  Of  course  to  some  unfor- 
tunate traveler  who  craves  some  new  excitement  every 
day  Norway  may  be  a  dull  country  after  he  has  once 
seen  two  or  three  of  the  fjords.  They  will  all  look  alike 
to  him,  and  some  of  these  calm  retreats  like  Marok  will 
be  imendurable. 

Marok  is  a  center  for  some  of  the  most  delightful 
excursions  in  Norway.  A  fifteen-mile  boat  ride  and  then 
a  fifteen-mile  drive  to  Oie  will  take  you  through  one  of 
the  most  varied  and  beautiful  scenes  that  the  imagina- 
tion can  picture.  It  is  inspiring,  no  less  in  the  mountain 
walls  that  rise  on  the  Geiranger  than  in  the  smiling, 
sunht  Norangdal,  which  leads  from  Hellesylt  to  Oie. 

Midway  in  this  Norangsdal  a  landshp  occurred  in 
1908.  It  carried  away  a  part  of  the  road  and  formed  a 
new  lake  by  danoming  up  the  river.  When  the  water 
of  this  new-born  lake  is  clear,  the  roofs  of  the  submerged 
houses  of  the  old  village  may  be  plainly  seen.    There  is 


290        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

something  uncanny  in  the  thought  that  a  skillful  swim- 
mer might  dive  far  below  the  water's  surface  and  swim 
into  the  garret  window  of  any  one  of  these  former 
habitations. 

Another  trip  which  Marok  affords  is  up  the  valley  to 
Grotlid,  past  the  frozen  Lake  Djupvand;  but  still  an- 
other valley,  the  Romsdal,  which  extends  from  Naes  on 
the  Molde  Fjord  to  Domaas  on  the  Dovre  fjeld,  and 
there  connects  with  the  Gudbrandsdal,  leading  down 
toward  Christiania,  affords  such  a  wonderful  trip  that 
I  think  I  must  wait  and  tell  you  of  that  and  not  dull 
your  appetite  by  describing  inferior  valleys. 

But  Marok  needs  no  valleys  to  add  to  its  attraction. 
The  superb  Geiranger  is  surely  enough  to  bring  it  fame. 
At  the  opening  of  the  long  fjord,  which  changes  its  name 
every  few  miles  and  at  its  inmost  extremity  assumes 
the  name  Geiranger,  is  situated  the  town  of  Aalesund. 
It  is  a  beautiful  port,  but  its  chief  claim  to  distinction 
lies  in  the  fact  that  it  was  once  the  home  of  Rolf  the 
Walker,  who,  you  remember,  conquered  Normandy  and 
caused  his  proxy  to  kiss  Charles  the  Simple's  foot  so 
violently  that  he  fell  from  his  horse.  In  token  of  this 
conquest  the  town  of  Rouen  has  given  to  Aalesund  a 
statue  of  Rolf. 

A  few  miles  north  of  Aalesimd  the  steamers  going  to 
Molde  pass  a  cliff  called  Homelen,  which  towers  three 
thousand  feet  in  air.  There  is  no  cliff  in  Norway  which 
can  compare  with  it,  and  that  is  equivalent  to  saying 
that  there  is  none  in  Europe.  Formerly  every  tourist 
steamer  which  sailed  by  Homelen  fired  a  gun  in  order 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  291 

that  the  passengers  might  hear  the  echo,  but  this  was 
done  once  too  often,  for  on  one  occasion  the  concussion 
made  by  the  firing  of  the  gun  loosened  an  immense 
amount  of  rock  on  the  side  of  the  cHff,  and  this  came 
hurthng  down,  leaving  a  hole  which  can  plainly  be  seen 
now. 

Farther  up  the  coast  and  not  so  very  far  from  Trond- 
hjem  lies  Molde,  the  "City  of  Roses."  You  see,  Portland, 
Oregon,  does  not  have  a  monopoly  of  the  name.  Molde 
might  equally  well  call  itself  the  "City  of  Honeysuckles" 
or  the  "City  of  the  Wild  Cherry."  The  town  is  at  the 
head  of  the  fjord  which  bears  its  name,  and  far  in  the 
distance  we  can  just  distinguish  the  Romsdalshorn, 
which  we  shall  later  see  at  closer  range.  Those  skilled 
in  mathematics  say  that  forty-six  peaks  are  visible  from 
Molde,  and  even  the  mathematically  untrained  can 
coimt  nearly  that  number.  Prominent  among  the  forty- 
six  stand  out  King,  Queen,  and  Bishop  —  you  see, 
church  and  state  are  side  by  side. 

The  citizens  of  Molde  are  proud  to  relate  that  once 
the  great  Bjornstjerne  Bjornson  was  a  school  teacher  in 
their  town.  They  may  well  be  proud,  for  Bjornson 
stands  out  as  one  of  the  most  daring  figures  in  Nor- 
way's recent  history.  All  Norwegians,  and  most  other 
Europeans  who  take  any  interest  in  literature,  are 
famiHar  with  the  fine,  commanding  face  of  Bjornson, 
surrounded  with  its  halo  of  white  hair.  No  wonder  he 
held  his  audiences  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  whenever 
he  made  pubKc  addresses.  His  oratory  was  not  of  the 
highest  order,  but  his  powerful  personality  compelled 


292        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

attention.  Those  who  could  not  hear  him  speak  can 
feel  the  thrill  of  his  personality  in  his  poems  and  stories. 
Some  of  his  peasant  tales,  such  as  A  Happy  Boy  and  The 
Fisher  Maiden^  are  considered  the  finest  of  their  t3^e  in 
all  literature.  He  wrote  his  first  verses  when  he  was 
ten  years  old  and  his  genius  in  this  line  culminated 
in  his  ode  called  Bergliot.  He  was  always  emotional, 
often  fiery,  and  generally  radical  in  his  views,  so 
much  so  that  his  figure  and  his  writings  became  the 
center  of  a  whirlwind  of  controversy.  He  wrote 
several  national  dramas,  such  as  Between  the  Battles 
and  Lame  Eulda,  but  later  his  genius  took  such  a 
radical  turn  that  he  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in 
getting  any  manager  to  stage  his  plays.  His  symbol- 
ical play,  Beyond  Our  Powers,  dealing  with  religious 
themes,  was  either  violently  criticised  or  as  violently 
praised,  according  to  the  personal  feelings  of  the  critic, 
and  another,  called  In  God^s  Way,  caused  even  more 
heated  discussion. 

Bjornson  seems  not  to  have  cared  how  much  discus- 
sion or  opposition  he  aroused,  though  he  never  tried  to 
arouse  it  simply  for  the  sake  of  publicity.  He  was 
daring  and  defiant,  and  cared  not  a  snap  of  his  finger 
what  this  or  that  critic  said  of  him.  Toward  the  end  of 
his  life  he  turned  more  to  short  stories,  and  in  all  of 
these  the  violent,  startling,  emotional  element  was  never 
lacking.  In  the  end  he  won  the  highest  literary  honor 
by  receiving  in  1903  the  Nobel  Literary  Prize.  Strangely 
enough  this  apostle  of  radicalism  preached  conciliation 
with  Sweden  during  the  crisis  of  1905,  and  later  he  went 


Copyright  by  Underwood  of  Underwood,  N.  V 


German  Battleships  in  Norwegian  Waters. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  293 

so  far  as  to  advocate  Pan-Germanism,  the  uniting  of  all 
the  peoples  of  Germanic  origin  into  a  single  nation. 

There  is  no  more  interesting  character  in  all  the  north 
than  Bjomson,  imless  it  be  his  compatriot,  Ole  Bull. 
He  could  never  be  called  "safe."  But  in  spite  of  his 
occasional  wildness,  he  is  recognized  by  all  his  people 
as  a  great  reformer,  and  Molde  is  justly  proud  of  its 
former  school  teacher. 

I  have  rambled  on  a  long  time  about  Bjornson.  In- 
teresting as  fjord  and  fjeld  and  dal  are  in  themselves, 
they  always  seem  to  me  more  interesting  when  enhanced 
by  memories  of  some  striking  character  with  whom  they 
are  associated.  Therefore,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  my 
frequent  rambles. 

At  the  end  of  the  long  Molde  Fjord  is  the  little  village 
of  Naes,  the  starting  point  for  the  Romsdal-Gudbrands- 
dal  route.  No  one  who  is  not  a  stick  or  a  lump  of  rock 
can  take  this  trip  without  feeling  his  emotions  stirred 
to  their  very  foundations.  There  are  few  places  in  the 
world  where  nature  has  so  unsparingly  lavished  her  art 
as  here.  As  if  the  diversity  of  the  scenes  were  not 
enough  in  itself  to  hold  our  attention,  nature  provides 
an  infinite  variety  of  lighting  effects.  Fleecy  clouds 
play  about  the  mountain  tops  and  then  give  way  to 
full  sunlight.  A  fog  rolls  up  and  curls  around  the  Roms- 
dalshom,  soon  to  dissolve  into  nothingness.  A  heavy 
curtain  of  clouds  appears  most  unexpectedly,  and  the 
wildest  thunder  pounds  and  rolls  and  crackles  through 
the  valley  to  the  accompaniment  of  pattering  hail.  We 
have  hardly  found  shelter  when  all  is  over.    The  s^m 


294        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

seems  to  shine  twice  as  brightly  as  before,  and  a  few- 
discontented  mutterings  in  the  distance  show  whither 
the  storm  is  retreating.  All  this  in  itself  would  be  in- 
spiring, yet  the  scenery  needs  no  assistance  in  produc- 
ing a  feeling  of  reverence  and  awe. 

On  one  side  of  the  road  towers  the  mountain  pyramid 
called  Romsdalshorn,  beside  which  the  poor  little  at- 
tempts of  Cheops  in  Egypt  would  look  pathetic.  Oppo- 
site to  the  Romsdalshorn  the  "Witches'  Pinnacles" 
and  the  "Bridal  Procession"  carry  on  their  little 
pantomime  through  endless  ages.  Formerly  it  was  sup- 
posed to  be  a  great  feat  to  climb  the  Romsdalshorn,  but 
it  has  now  been  done  so  many  times  that  the  glamor  of 
the  achievement  has  worn  off.  The  whole  route  up  the 
Romsdal  is  lined  at  this  time  of  year  with  imposing 
waterfalls.  A  waterfall  in  Norway  is  called  a  fos^  and 
on  this  route,  as  on  so  many  others  in  Norway,  it  is 
practically  impossible  to  get  out  of  sight  of  at  least  one 
tumbling  fos.  The  three  in  Romsdal  which  excite  the 
most  interest  are  Mongefos,  Vaermofos,  and  Slettafos. 
The  latter  produces  a  roar  which  can  be  heard  a  great 
distance  away,  but  the  finest  looking  of  the  three  is 
Vaermofos.  It  makes  one  great  leap  of  seven  hundred 
feet  and  then  is  divided  by  a  projecting  rock  into  three 
separate  falls,  which  leap  another  three  hundred  feet. 
But  the  Vaermofos  is  only  one  of  thousands  and  thou- 
sands, which  leap  or  tumble  helter-skelter  into  valleys 
and  fjords  all  through  the  land.  One  writer  says: 
"To  enumerate  the  waterfalls  of  Romsdal  would  be 
rather  a  serious  task.    There  are  a  dozen  or  two  that 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  295 

would  support  half  a  dozen  hotels,  and  be  perpetually 
sketched,  photographed,  and  stereoscoped  if  they  were 
anywhere  up  the  Rhine." 

The  road  winds  in  sharp  zigzags  or  wide  curves  ever 
higher  and  higher,  with  the  Rauma  surging  along  below 
in  its  rock-bound  guUey  until  we  reach  Domaas  at  the 
top  of  the  pass. 

I  should  have  told  you  before  something  about  our 
method  of  locomotion.  So  much  travel  in  Norway 
must  be  done  by  road  (railway  mileage  is  the  least  in 
proportion  to  the  extent  of  territory  of  any  country  in 
Europe)  that  posting  has  been  developed  to  a  high 
degree,  and  certain  peculiarly  national  conveyances 
have  come  into  being.  The  most  distinctive  of  these  is 
the  carriole,  a  very  diminutive,  two-wheeled  gig,  which 
accommodates  but  one  person  beside  the  driver,  who 
sits  up  behind.  Even  this  one  person  must  place  his 
feet  in  stirrups  outside  the  wagon  and  below  its  floor. 
If  he  tries  to  keep  his  feet  inside  the  wagon  he  will  find 
himself  cramped  into  a  bowknot  Your  driver,  who  is 
known  as  skydsgut  (pronounced  shusgut),  is  generally  a 
peasant  boy.  In  many  respects  he  is  like  peasant  boys 
of  other  countries,  but  he  is  sure  to  possess  the  quahty 
of  absolute  honesty.  If  you  give  him  too  much  money 
by  mistake,  he  will  return  your  change.  You  cannot 
cheat  yourself  if  you  will.  There  is  one  other  charac- 
teristic which  your  skydsgut  will  possess,  if  he  is  at  all 
a  normal  Norwegian;  that  is  a  stohd  sort  of  courtesy, 
which  cannot  be  bullied  into  doing  anything  for  you, 
but  will  invariably  do  the  utmost  if  politely  requested. 


296        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Demand  your  carriole  rather  peremptorily  and  a  little 
harshly,  and  you  will  get  no  answer  —  neither  will  you 
get  your  carriole.  Tell  your  skydsgut  that  you  are  in  a 
hurry  to  get  started  and  would  appreciate  it  if  he  could 
bring  the  carriole  immediately.  Before  you  have  fin- 
ished speaking  he  is  off,  and  with  all  possible  speed  he 
brings  you  the  carriole.  The  normal  Norwegian  simply 
cannot  resist  a  polite  appeal  to  his  sympathy  or  cour- 
tesy. No  more  can  he  refrain  from  resisting  to  the  finish 
an  attitude  of  overbearing  peremptoriness. 

From  the  town  of  Domaas  we  must  take  a  side  ex- 
cursion up  into  the  Dovre  Mountains  or  fjeld.  The 
fjeld  is  generally  a  wild,  rough,  mountain  wilderness, 
implying  snow  fields.  It  is  the  paradise  of  the  soHtude 
seeker,  unless  it  be  robbed  of  its  quietude  by  the  ubiqui- 
tous huntsman.  Here  we  find  the  saeter  huts  in  all 
their  primitive,  old-world  charm.  For  centuries  these 
saeter  huts  have  existed  just  as  they  exist  to-day.  They 
are  very  rude  affairs,  being  built  only  for  simimer  occu- 
pation. Trunks  of  fir  trees  are  fitted  together,  and  the 
chinks  are  filled  in  with  birch  bark  and  sods.  Generally 
a  single  room  is  used  as  sitting  room,  dining  room, 
kitchen,  bedroom,  and  dairy.  This  doesn't  sound  par- 
ticularly attractive  for  the  ultimate  consumer  of  the 
dairy  products,  but  the  dairying  processes  are  really 
carried  on  in  cleanly  and  sanitary  fashion. 

Into  most  of  the  accessible  nooks  of  the  fjeld  the 
sportsman  has  found  his  way.  Beasts  of  the  field  and 
birds  of  the  air  are  still  abundant  in  some  places.  Of 
this  latter  class  there  are  foimd  the  more  or  less  inter- 


Copyright  by  Underwood  6*  Underwood,  N.  Y. 

A  Stolkjaerre. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  297 

national  grouse,  woodcock,  snipe,  partridge,  and  golden 
plover.  The  Lapland  bunting,  the  puflin,  the  kittiwake, 
and  the  capercaillie  have  a  more  northern  sound,  but  I 
am  not  enough  of  a  huntsman  or  a  naturalist  to  know 
just  where  their  habitat  is. 

Bears  and  wolves  are  still  found  in  Norway  and  add 
a  decided  thrill  to  the  Hfe  of  the  adventurous  hunter. 
There  is  a  single  island  off  the  mouth  of  the  Trondhjem 
Fjord  which  has  an  almost  complete  monopoly  of  the 
red  deer.  For  some  strange  reason  the  red  deer  has  dis- 
appeared throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  penin- 
sular Norway,  but  still  abounds  on  this  island  of 
Hitteren. 

I  confess,  Judicia,  that  I  have  not  shot  or  caught  a 
single  bird,  beast,  or  fish  during  all  these  past  months, 
but  I  have  seen  a  good  many  of  them,  and  I  have  been 
much  interested  in  reading  the  accounts  of  those  who 
are  initiated.  One  sportsman  has  amused  himself  and 
others  by  making  a  collection  of  the  names  by  which 
different  groups  of  animals  are  designated  in  the  sport- 
ing world.  He  does  not  confine  himself  to  Norway,  but 
goes  far  afield  and  finds  no  less  than  thirty-one  different 
names,  all  meaning  ''group."  Besides  the  common  and 
well-known  designations,  he  speaks  of  a  nide  "  of  pheas- 
ants, a  "wisp"  of  snipe,  a  ''muster"  of  peacocks,  a 
"siege"  of  herons,  a  "cast"  of  hawks,  a  "pride"  of 
lions,  a  "sleuth"  of  bears,  and  several  others  equally 
fantastic  and  unfamiHar. 

The  most  peculiarly  national  animal  in  Norway, 
whether  he  is  designated  collectively  as  a  "pride"  or  a 


298        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

"muster"  or  a  "siege"  or  otherwise,  is  the  lemming. 
The  lemming  is  a  fierce  Uttle  brute,  about  the  size  of  a 
rat,  but  when  brought  to  bay  he  is  a  most  dangerous 
enemy.  Ordinarily  he  is  a  rather  harmless,  useless 
beast,  but  once  in  awhile  he  becomes  a  national  scourge. 
Such  occasions  are  called  '' Lemming  Years."  For  some 
imaccountable  reason  swarms  of  lemmings  are  born, 
and  they  come  sweeping  over  Norway  in  great  waves. 
For  days  a  ceaseless  army  of  them  marches  seaward, 
and  nothing  can  stop  them.  They  eat  all  that  lies  in 
their  path,  and  leave  a  track  of  devastation  behind  them 
like  a  plundering  army  of  soldiers.  They  look  neither 
right  nor  left,  but  travel  straight  on  until  they  reach 
the  open  sea.  They  plunge  down  the  mountain  sides 
into  the  fjords,  blindly  and  madly,  and  are  soon 
drowned.  It  would  be  well  for  Norway  if  they  all 
reached  the  sea,  but  alas,  thousands  fall  by  the  way- 
side. Wells  are  choked  up  with  their  bodies,  and  the 
water  is  poisoned,  so  that  "lemming  fever"  is  the  in- 
evitable sequel  to  a  lemming  raid.  I  beHeve  there  has 
not  been  a  big  raid  since  1902,  but  every  summer  the 
farmers  expect  them  again  and  are  filled  with  dread. 

Returning  to  Domaas,  we  jog  along  in  our  carriole 
down  to  Otta  in  the  Gudbrandsdal.  Between  Domaas 
and  Otta,  at  a  place  called  Kringen,  the  road  "runs  like 
a  narrow  ribbon  between  the  steep  cUfif  on  the  one  side 
and  the  foaming  river  on  the  other."  Here,  in  161 2, 
six  hundred  Scottish  mercenaries,  hired  by  Gustavus 
Adolphus,  landed  at  what  is  now  Naes  and  prepared  to 
walk  to  Sweden  by  way  of  the  Romsdal  and  Gudbrands- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  299 

dal  valleys.  At  Kringen  the  Norwegians  collected  big 
boulders  at  the  top  of  the  cli£f.  A  peasant  girl  named 
Pillar  Guri  stood  on  the  opposite  side  and  blew  a  horn 
to  let  her  compatriots  know  just  when  the  Scottish  sol- 
diers were  passing  below.  At  the  signal  the  fatal  shower 
descended,  and  it  is  said  that  not  one  of  the  six  hundred 
escaped.  Truly  "into  the  valley  of  death  rode  the  six 
hundred."  A  monument  has  been  placed  on  the  spot 
to  commemorate  the  event. 

Now,  Judicia,  will  you  be  an  obliging  chessman?  If 
so,  take  two  jumps  backward  and  one  to  the  right  and 
land  at  Loen  on  the  Nordf  jord.  There  is  an  excursion 
from  here  to  Lake  Loen  which  offers  something  unique 
to  the  weariest  and  most  blase  globe-trotter.  Lake 
Loen  is  buried  in  the  midst  of  the  wildest,  glacier-sur- 
mounted hills,  and  it  almost  seems  an  intrusion  for  pry- 
ing eyes  to  visit  it,  yet  it  must  submit  not  only  to  this 
indignity  but  to  the  positive  disgrace  of  having  a  little 
steamer,  by  name  the  Lodolen,  chug  through  its  quiet 
waters.  Li  some  places  great,  jagged  masses  of  glacial 
ice  actually  overhang  the  lake,  hundreds  of  feet  in  air, 
and  at  times  fragments  break  off  and  plunge  down  into 
the  water. 

Our  little  steamer  Lodolen  is  rather  a  curiosity,  for  its 
engine  was  taken  from  the  wreck  of  a  former  ship.  Some 
years  ago  the  Lodolen* s  predecessor  was  quietly  making 
its  way  along  the  eastern  end  of  the  lake  when  without 
warning  a  whole  mountain,  or  at  least  a  large  part  of  a 
mountain,  timabled  bodily  into  the  lake.  A  tidal  wave 
was  created  which  caught  the  steamer  and  carried  it  far 


300        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

up  the  mountain  side.  To-day,  from  the  deck  of  the 
Lodolen,  we  can  see  the  wreck  of  the  old  ship  whose 
engine  is  propelling  the  new.  Perhaps  the  guardians  of 
the  lake  rebelled  at  the  indignity  of  having  a  steamer 
invade  its  quietness,  and  took  this  means  of  showing 
their  displeasure;  but  persistent  humanity  seems  to  be 
unwilling  to  be  thwarted.  Perhaps  some  day  the  Lodolen 
will  meet  with  a  similar  fate  and  another  steamer  take 
its  place. 

The  Sognefjord  south  of  the  Nordfjord  is  not  only 
the  deepest,  but  also  the  largest.  For  a  hundred  and 
thirty  miles  it  stretches  its  branches  into  the  heart  of 
Norway.  Indeed,  it  is  shaped  like  a  tree,  the  trunk 
being  the  main  fjord.  The  great  boughs  which  come  out 
from  this  mighty  trunk  twist  and  taper  into  the  most 
delicate  twigs,  and  here  and  there  diminutive  dais  and 
hamlets  present  the  appearance  of  leaves  and  buds,  if 
you  will  permit  your  fancy  to  roam  so  far.  Many 
authors  are  tempted  into  the  most  fanciful  descriptions 
of  Sogne^s  grandeur.  If  you  could  see  the  dramatic 
audacity  of  nature  here  I  am  sure  you  would  forgive 
even  the  extravagant  imagination  of  the  following  de- 
scription, which  I  quote  from  0.  F.  W. : 

"Ever  since  the  dawn  of  time  these  mighty  gray  stone 
giants  of  the  Sognefjord  have  sat  there  gloomy  and 
stanch.  Age  has  set  deep  marks  on  them.  Their 
visages  are  now  furrowed  and  weather-beaten,  and  their 
crowns  snowy  white.  But  their  sight  is  still  keen. 
When  the  storms  of  winter  come  sweeping  in  with  the 
wild  sagas  of  the  sea,  there  is  a  blaze  imder  those  shaggy 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &•  Underwood,  N.Y. 

Fishermen  Arranging  their  Nets  at  Balestrand  on  the 
Sognefjord. 


!.!  c 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  301 

brows.  They  roar  with  hoarse  voice  across  to  one  an- 
other when  the  rains  of  spring  set  in.  In  the  dark 
autumn  nights  they  shake  their  mighty  Hmbs  with  such 
a  crash  and  roar  that  huge  masses  scour  down  the  slopes 
to  the  fjord,  sweeping  away  all  the  human  vermin  that 
has  crawled  up  and  fastened  itself  upon  them.  Only 
during  the  light,  warm,  summer  nights,  when  the  wild 
breezes  play  about  them  and  all  the  glories  of  the  earth 
are  sprinkled  over  them,  when  islands  and  holms  rise 
out  of  the  trembling  sea  and  swim  about  like  light, 
downy  birds,  when  the  birch  is  decked  in  green  and  the 
bird  cherry  is  blossoming,  the  seaweed  purhng  and 
the  sea  murmuring  —  then  the  deep  wrinkles  are 
smoothed  out,  then  there  falls  a  gleam  of  youth  over  the 
austere  faces.'' 

There  you  have  the  Sogne,  the  poet's  Sogne  perhaps, 
but  I  think  not  too  fanciful,  for  the  Sogne  is  the  poet's 
fjord  above  all  others,  and  anyone  who  has  no  poetry 
in  him  should  not  invade  its  precincts.  At  Balholm,  on 
this  fjord,  the  German  emperor  is  commemorating  the 
famous  Fridthjof  with  a  statue.  Longfellow  translated 
the  Fridthjof  saga,  so  Balholm  is  thus  connected  with 
him  too,  and  adds  another  point  in  favor  of  Sogne's 
claim  to  the  name  of  the  poet's  fjord. 

Longfellow  wrote  several  poems  connected  with  the 
northland.  The  most  famous,  as  you  know,  and  the 
one  which  connects  Norway  with  America,  is  The  Skele- 
ton in  Armor.  I  have  read  it  half  a  dozen  times  since  I 
came  to  Norway,  and  it  has  done  more  than  anything 
else  to  make  me  feel  and  see  the  spell  of  the  old  vikings. 


302        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

This  has  been  a  long  letter  and  I  have  not  touched 
upon  Hardanger  or  Saetersdal  or  the  North  Cape,  but 
those  will  keep  for  another  letter,  and  if  you  will  trans- 
form yourself  into  a  "castle,"  or,  better  still,  remain  a 
queen  and  move  several  squares  due  north,  you  will 
arrive  at  Marok  again,  where  the  gleaming  Geiranger  is 
beginning  to  be  ruffled  by  evening  breezes.  I  will  write 
to  you  soon,  probably  from  Saetersdal,  where  I  know  I 
shall  find  seventeenth-century  Norway  in  all  its  charm. 

As  ever  yours,        , 
Aylmer. 


ELEVENTH  LETTER 

Aylmer  visits  the  North  Cape;  Narvik  to  Hammerfest;  the  oft- 
imagined  midnight  sim  a  realization;  Vanniman  and  the  sun 
compass;  Hardanger  Fjord  and  region;  the  Norwegian  Sunday; 
a  coimtry  wedding;  the  snow  ttmnel  at  Haukeli  Saeter;  the  preci- 
pice of  Dalen ;  a  natural  boomerang ;  the  "  Norwegian  Rhine  " ;  the 
romance  of  Helgenotra;  a  " stave-kirke" ;  Henrik  Ibsen;  educa- 
tional difficulties  in  Norway;  itinerant  schoolmasters;  the  charm 
of  Saetersdal;  wherein  lies  the  Spell  of  Norway? 

BrEDVIK,   SiETERSDAL,  AugUSt  l8. 

My  dear  Judicia, 

Before  I  tell  you  about  Saetersdal  I  must  say  some- 
thing about  the  North  Cape  and  the  midnight  sun. 
Perhaps  you  wonder  why  I  don't  save  the  famous 
North  Cape  for  a  climax  instead  of  taking  you  up  there 
first  and  then  way  back  to  the  southernmost  tip  of  Nor- 
way. My  reason,  which  I  hope  later  to  justify,  is  this. 
To  me  the  spell  of  Norway  Hes  most  of  all  in  its  dais 
and  in  its  sceter  regions,  where  the  simplicity  of  the 
natives  is  untarnished  and  where  the  coimtry  is  natur- 
ally beautiful.  The  place  where  this  is  true  to  the  fullest 
extent  is  in  the  region  whose  appropriate  name,  Saeters- 
dal, combines  the  thought  of  rugged  upland  and  smiling 
dal, 

I  do  not  mean  to  minimize  the  glories  of  the  North 
Cape.  They  are  superb  and  almost  too  wonderful  for 
us.  They  make  us  gasp  for  breath,  and  perhaps  we  feel 
almost  tired  after  surveying  them.    I  have  felt  "timor- 


304        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

ous"  about  approaching  that  subject  at  all,  for  many 
thousands  of  people,  among  them  some  noted  writers, 
have  visited  the  spot  and  have  seen  the  midnight  sim. 
Certainly  ninety-nine  per  cent  of  them  have  tried  to 
describe  it,  and  many  have  had  their  attempts  published. 

I  will  not  take  you  step  by  step,  or  port  by  port,  on 
the  long  journey  to  Hammerfest,  for  I  took  you  up  as 
far  as  Narvik  when  I  went  there  last  winter,  and  the 
continuation  is  much  the  same.  We  pass  Tromso,  the 
northernmost  of  Norway's  six  bishoprics,  and  the  town 
which  long  enjoyed  the  distinction  of  having  the  north- 
ernmost church  in  the  world.  Of  course,  thriving  Uttle 
Hammerfest  has  now  robbed  it  of  that  honor.  Hammer- 
fest, I  suppose,  is  more  widely  known,  by  name  at  least, 
than  almost  any  other  village  of  its  size  in  the  world, 
with  the  possible  exceptions  of  Oberammergau  and 
Stratford-on-Avon,  which  have  earned  their  distinction 
in  quite  different  ways.  Every  schoolboy  and  school- 
girl learns  that  Hammerfest  is  the  most  northerly  town 
in  the  world.  It  has  only  two  thousand  inhabitants, 
but  with  the  inpouring  waves  of  tourists  in  the  summer 
it  becomes  a  most  lively  place.  The  whole  town  is  per- 
vaded winter  and  siunmer  with  a  nauseating  smell  of 
boiling  cod-liver  oil.  Doubtless  the  product  is  a  fruitful 
source  of  income  to  the  inhabitants,  but  personally  I 
should  hardly  care  to  live  in  the  reeking  smell  of  it  all 
my  Ufe. 

On  the  Fulgnaes,  a  promontory  a  little  to  the  north  of 
the  town,  there  is  the  MeridianstoUen,  a  column  of 
granite  with  a  bronze  globe  surmounting  it,  marking 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &*  Underwood,  N.  Y 


Three  Little  Belles  of  the  Arctic  at  Tromso. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  305 

the  spot,  as  the  Latin  and  Norwegian  inscriptions  indi- 
cate, where  the  "geometers  of  three  nations,  by  order 
of  King  Oscar  I  and  Czars  Alexander  I  and  Nicholas  I," 
completed  in  1852  the  arduous  task  of  measuring  the 
degrees. 

Our  steamer,  in  going  from  Hammerfest  to  the  North 
Cape,  passes  the  Hjelmostoren  cliff,  the  home  of  millions, 
perhaps  of  billions  of  flapping,  shrieking  sea  birds. 
Although  the  old  birds  and  the  wise  ones  are  never  dis- 
turbed by  the  passing  steamer,  even  when  it  fires  off  a 
gun,  the  young  fledgelings  flap  about  in  such  clouds  that 
they  actually  darken  the  face  of  the  sun.  . 

Finally  we  reach  the  grand  old  North  Cape  on  the 
island  of  Magero.  The  steamer  drops  anchor  in  Horn- 
vik  Bay,  and  we  leave  it  and  zigzag  up  the  newly  built 
road  to  the  famous  cHff .  Our  good  ship  Kong  Harald 
looks  like  a  beetle  floating  on  the  water's  surface.  The 
waves,  which  seemed  rather  formidable  to  us  from  the 
little  boat  which  took  us  ashore,  have  now  assumed  the 
appearance  of  almost  invisible  ripples. 

Come  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff  with  me,  Judicia,  and 
you  will  see  a  sight  which  you  will  never  forget.  If  your 
nerves  are  strong  and  your  conscience  is  clear,  you  may 
not  tremble  at  the  awfulness  of  the  scene.  But  unless 
you  are  dead  to  emotion,  something  must  stir  within 
you.  Far  below  and  far  beyond  stretches  the  apparently 
limitless  Arctic  Sea — the  vast,  fatal,  compelling  sea  which 
brave  men  of  many  nations  have  died  in  exploring. 
And  there  surely  is  the  midnight  sun.  It  must  be  that, 
for  it  is  just  midnight,  and  that  great  red  ball  of  fire 


3o6        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

hanging  a  little  above  the  horizon  is  very  evidently  not 
the  moon.  It  is  easy,  isn't  it,  to  speak  of  the  midnight 
sun,  and  hard  to  realize  it.  That  mysterious  golden 
globe  bowling  lazily  along  the  northern  horizon  is  in 
process  of  making  a  million  sunsets  and  a  million  sun- 
rises in  other  parts  of  the  world,  but  here  all  is  blended 
into  one.  Doctor  John  L.  Stoddard,  in  a  burst  of  elo- 
quence, has  thus  described  the  color  scheme  which 
nature  here  presents: 

"Far  to  the  north  the  sun  lay  in  a  bed  of  saffron  hght 
over  the  clear  horizon  of  the  Arctic  Ocean.  A  few  bars 
of  dazzling  orange  cloud  floated  above,  and  still  higher 
in  the  sky,  where  the  saffron  melted  through  delicate 
rose  color  into  blue,  hung  hght  wreaths  of  vapor  touched 
with  pearly  opaline  flushes  of  pink  and  golden  gray. 
The  sea  was  a  web  of  pale  slate  color  shot  through  and 
through  with  threads  of  orange  and  saffron,  from  the 
dance  of  a  myriad  shifting  and  twinkling  ripples.  The 
air  was  filled  and  permeated  with  a  soft,  mysterious 
glow,  and  even  the  very  azure  of  the  southern  sky 
seemed  to  shine  through  a  net  of  golden  gauze.  Midway 
.  .  .  stood  the  midnight  sun,  shining  on  us  with  subdued 
fires  and  with  the  gorgeous  coloring  of  an  hour  for 
which  we  have  no  name,  since  it  is  neither  simset,  nor 
sunrise,  but  the  blended  loveliness  of  both  ..." 

Flowery  as  the  language  is,  it  is  not  one  particle  ex- 
aggerated.   Exaggeration  would  be  impossible. 

A  less  ambitious  author  frankly  admits  his  inability 
to  describe  a  northern  midsiunmer  night.  "The  memory 
of  one  night  in  Norway,"  he  says,  "makes  one  feel  how 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  307 

powerless  language  is  to  describe  the  splendor  of  that 
.  .  .  glory  —  glory  of  carmine  and  orange  and  indigo, 
which  floods  not  only  the  heavens,  but  the  sea,  and 
makes  the  waves  beneath  our  keel  a /flash  of  living 
fire.'" 

A  more  scientific,  if  less  poetic  person,  who  visited 
the  northland  was  Vanniman,  the  American  engineer, 
who  was  with  Wellman  when  he  made  his  unsuccessful 
attempt  to  reach  the  North  Pole  by  airship.  Vanniman 
perhaps  neglected  the  beauties  of  nature  for  the  more 
sordidly  practical  occupation  of  inventing  a  sun  com- 
pass. The  principle  of  this  instrument  is  most  interest- 
ing. Reasoning  that  at  the  precise  moment  of  midnight 
the  sun  is  due  north,  he  "constructed  a  clock  the  hour 
hand  of  which  traveled  in  the  opposite  direction  to  the 
sun,  so  that,  on  being  pointed  at  the  midnight  sun  and 
set  going,  it  continued  to  point  due  north." 

I  would  feel  more  reluctant  to  tear  myself  and  you 
from  the  glories  of  the  North  Cape  were  it  not  that 
quieter,  gentler  glories  await  us  farther  south.  In  the 
deep  blue  Hardanger  Fjord  and  its  surroundings  we 
find  all  nature  gentler  and  milder,  even  in  its  grandeur, 
than  the  nature  of  the  far  north  or  even  of  the  rugged 
Sogne.  The  Hardanger  district  is  fir-clothed  and  alder 
and  birch-clothed  as  well,  and  presents  a  softer  loveli- 
ness than  the  knotted,  "brawny"  aspect  of  other  fjords. 
I'll  venture  to  say  that  the  word  Hardanger  suggests 
to  you,  Judicia,  only  a  species  of  embroidery,  but  if  you 
had  only  seen  the  district  it  would  suggest  warmth  of 
forest-clothed  dal^  majesty  of  lofty  waterfall,  and  depth 


3o8        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

of  cool  fjord.  Hardanger  is  famous,  even  in  Norway, 
for  its  waterfalls.  It  outdoes  the  Romsdal.  The 
Skjeggedalsfos  is  quite  the  finest  in  all  Europe,  and  would 
not  blush  if  placed  beside  Niagara,  while  several  other 
foses  in  the  Hardanger  district  are  nearly  as  fine. 

Sometimes  the  Hardanger's  gentle  smile  has  savored 
of  the  nature  of  a  mask,  for  in  one  of  its  foses  it  has  kept  a 
lurking  danger.  Far  inland  through  the  Eidf  jord  and  the 
Simodal  there  is  on  a  high  plateau  a  glacier  named  the 
Rembesdal.  From  this  a  stream  trickles  into  a  moun- 
tain lake,  then  to  plunge  over  a  cliff  into  the  Simodal. 
In  former  years,  whenever  the  snow  melted  suddenly  on 
the  Rembesdal  Glacier,  the  water  thus  formed  would 
collect  in  a  rocky  upland  valley  choked  off  by  the  gla- 
cier itself  from  every  exit.  The  water  would  gradually 
collect  here  until  it  was  a  small  lake  in  itself,  and  still 
the  glacier  barred  its  way  to  freedom.  Finally  the 
strain  would  become  too  great,  the  barrier  would  give 
away,  and  the  irresistible  mass  of  ice,  pushed  on  by  the 
lake  which  it  had  formed,  would  plunge  madly  down 
into  the  lower  lake,  then  over  the  cliff,  and  down  into 
the  peaceful,  unsuspecting  Simodal,  where  it  would 
drown  and  destroy  all  that  lay  in  its  path.  Finally 
human  skill  came  to  the  aid  of  nature,  and  Norwegian 
engineers  built  under  the  glacier  an  iron  timnel  through 
which  the  waters  of  the  upper,  artificial  lake  may  drain 
down  into  the  lower,  natural  lake. 

To  me  the  most  interesting  thing  about  the  Hardanger 
district  is  its  people.  On  Sundays  they  appear  in  all 
their  finery,  and  the  women  make  a  gorgeous  showing. 


I         5  '      5  ' 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &*  Underwood,  N.  Y. 

The  Hardanger  Glacier  and  Rembesdal  Lake. 


«   •   •  •  • 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  309 

They  wear  long  skirts  of  dark  blue,  trimmed  with  black 
velvet  and  silver  braid;  white  chemisettes  with  full 
sleeves,  over  which  shines  a  gorgeous  red  bodice,  with 
the  most  varied  assortment  of  ornaments,  some  of  them 
made  of  brass,  and  saucer-shaped.  A  belt  adorned  with 
huge  metal  buttons  adds  considerably  to  their  festive 
appearance.  The  headdress  is  most  elaborate,  and  it 
must  require  great  skill  to  arrange  it  well.  It  is  of  snow- 
white  linen  stretched  on  a  wire  frame  in  something  the 
shape  of  a  half  moon,  and  plaited  very  precisely  and 
carefully.  Judicia,  I  am  not  an  authority  on  women's 
clothing,  and  I  feel  utterly  at  a  loss  to  attempt  to  de- 
scribe these  Hardanger  women  as  they  appear.  Please 
lend  your  most  charitable  imagination  to  my  meager 
description. 

Sunday  is  rather  a  gala  day  in  Norway,  after  church 
is  over.  The  people  as  a  rule  are  sincerely  religious,  but 
Sabbath  observance  such  as  was  known  in  Puritan 
America  or  England  is  unheard  of.  ELing  Haakon  VII, 
who  is  himself  an  Evangelical  Lutheran,  reports  with 
pride  that  when  he  traveled  through  the  country  dis- 
tricts of  his  kingdom  he  found  a  Bible  in  every  peasant's 
cottage.  He  adds  that  he  considers  this  one  of  the  hope- 
ful features  of  his  nation.  Ninety-seven  and  six  tenths 
per  cent  of  the  people  are  Lutherans,  and  they  will 
no  doubt  cling  to  that  form  of  the  Protestant  faith  for 
centuries  to  come. 

This  gala  Sunday  is  invariably  discussed  and  com- 
mented upon  by  all  writers  about  Norway.  One  or  two 
authors  frankly  delight  in  it,  rejoicing  that  in  this  free 


3IO        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

country  no  such  thing  is  known  "as  that  sour,  narrow 
Sabbatarianism  which  we  find  in  England."  Another 
author,  while  finding  good  qualities  in  it,  guardedly 
believes  that  perhaps  on  the  whole  it  does  not  make  for 
the  advancement  of  religion.  Still  others  mourn  it  as  a 
sure  sign  of  national  decay.  These  latter  are  perhaps 
too  pessimistic,  for,  however  you  may  regard  the  day, 
there  is  certainly  no  more  devotedly,  healthfully  reli- 
gious people  in  the  world  than  those  in  the  country 
districts  of  Norway.  I  am  afraid  that  this  cannot  be 
said  so  strongly  of  the  cities.  Certainly  the  gala  Sun- 
day has  made  vast  inroads  into  Christiania  church  con- 
gregations. Many  who  are  of  mediocre  tendencies, 
religiously  speaking,  go  up  to  Holmenkollen  early  of  a 
Sunday  morning,  coast  all  the  forenoon  (perhaps  in- 
tending to  drop  in  for  a  half-hour's  service  in  the  Hol- 
menkollen chapel),  and  spend  afternoon  and  evening  in 
great  hilarity.  The  chapel  service  seems  rather  a  farce, 
as  very  few  of  the  sport-seekers  really  avail  themselves 
of  the  opportunity  of  attending.  So  you  can  see  that 
some  of  the  Christiania  pastors  have  good  cause  to 
mourn  their  national  hilarious  Simday. 

But  to  return  to  Hardanger.  At  the  occasional  coun- 
try weddings  in  Hardanger  the  bride's  costume  would 
bear  comparison  with  the  plumage  of  the  bird  of  para- 
dise. It  is  only  in  the  depths  of  the  country  that  you 
can  now  see  a  real  Norwegian  wedding,  for  Norway  is 
becoming  sadly  internationalized  in  this  respect,  and 
plain  white  for  the  bride  and  funereal  black  for  the 
groom  are  fast  supplanting  the  old  gay  costumes.    In 


Copyright  by  Underwood  &•  Underwood,  N.  Y. 

View  from  Hammerfest. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  311 

Saetersdal  you  may  stand  a  better  chance  than  in  the 
Hardanger  district  of  seeing  a  good,  old-fashioned 
country  wedding. 

A  tough,  spudding  Httle  pony  draws  a  two-seated 
stolkjaerre^  on  which  is  seated  the  bride  in  all  her  finery, 
and  adorned  for  the  occasion  in  a  magnificent  crown  of 
brass.  Beside  her  sits  the  groom,  and  on  the  step  of 
the  carriage  the  master  of  ceremonies,  the  ancient  fid- 
dler. He  must  be  ancient,  white-haired,  toothless,  and 
a  bit  doddering,  or  it  is  hardly  a  genuine  wedding.  All 
along  the  bridal  procession  this  doddering  fiddler  pHes 
his  bow  at  a  tremendous  rate,  and  if  you  are  some  dis- 
tance away  it  really  sounds  very  well.  All  Norway  has 
for  ages  been  devoted  to  the  vioHn.  It  seems  to  me  that 
half  the  people  in  Norway  must  either  play  it  or  play 
at  it;  it  is  the  national  instrument. 

You  will  not  find  the  full  charm  of  seventeenth-cen- 
tury Norway  imtil  you  get  up  here  in  the  Saetersdal.  It 
is  an  interesting  trip,  too,  from  Odda  on  the  Hardanger 
Fjord  overland  by  the  Telemarken  route  to  Skien,  the 
birthplace  of  the  famous  Henrik  Ibsen,  and  from  there 
down  to  Christiansand,  and  up  here  through  the  Saeters- 
dal to  Bredvik.  Not  far  from  Odda  we  pass  a  hotel  in 
the  Seljestad  glen  where,  as  a  certain  guide  book  proudly 
points  out,  Mr.  Gladstone,  Lady  Brassey,  and  the  rest 
of  the  party  of  The  Sunbeam  greatly  enjoyed  the  view 
in  1885.  Certainly  Mr.  Gladstone  and  Lady  Brassey 
and  the  others  were  justified  in  their  admiration,  for 
there  is  no  more  beautiful  spot  in  all  the  Hardanger 
district.    At  the  top  of  the  pass  there  is  a  mountain 


312         THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

chalet  called  Haukeli  Saeter,  and  here  the  snow  falls  in 
such  immense  quantities  that  even  in  summer  the  road 
passes  through  a  tunnel  dug  through  a  snow  drift. 

Farther  on,  near  Dalen,  there  is  a  precipice  nine  hun- 
dred feet  high  called  the  Ravnegjuv,  under  which  a 
wild,  mad  river  tears  along.  Whether  this  river  is  re- 
sponsible I  cannot  say,  but  there  is  here  a  strong  draft, 
blowing  upward  and  back  over  the  precipice.  Throw 
over  paper  or  leaves,  or  something  equally  light,  and  it 
will  come  sailing  back  to  you  like  a  boomerang.  It  is 
also  stoutly  claimed  that  the  breeze  is  strong  enough  to 
blow  back  a  hat,  but  I  never  heard  of  anyone  who 
wanted  to  risk  it.  It  would  be  an  interesting  experi- 
ment, and  even  if  it  failed  the  hat  might  not  be  a  total 
loss;  probably  it  would  fall  into  the  torrent  below  and 
go  whirling  down  toward  the  Skagger-Rack.  The  hat- 
less  experimenter  could  then  hurry  down  to  the  mouth 
of  the  stream  by  carriage  and  train  and  there  lie  in  wait 
for  his  wandering  hat.  This  draft  over  the  Ravnegjuv 
sinks  into  insignificance  compared  with  the  draft  which 
swirls  against  certain  parts  of  the  Naero  dal  in  the  Sogne 
district.  Here  the  farmhouses  are  surrounded  by  earth- 
works to  protect  them  from  the  blasts  of  air  caused  by 
avalanches  descending  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley. 

Farther  down  the  Telemark  route  from  Ulefos  there 
is  a  fine  excursion  up  the  Saur  River  and  the  Nordsjo  to 
Notodden  and  the  Rjukan  Falls.  This  Saur  River  is 
erroneously  called  the  "Norwegian  Rhine."  The 
Rhine  shoidd  be  called  the  "  Swiss-German-Dutch 
Saur,"  for  I  maintain  that  Norway  is  the  fatherland  of 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  313 

natural  scenery,  and  the  mere  fact  that  the  Rhine  is 
situated  within  easy  access  of  all  Europe  does  not  justify 
the  implication  that  it  is  the  last  word  in  river  scenery 
and  that  the  Saur  is  rather  a  poor,  second-rate,  Nor- 
wegian imitation  of  it. 

Opposite  Notodden  there  is  a  romantic  mountain 
called  Helgenotra,  from  an  old  heroine  named  Helga 
Tveiten.  As  she  was  walking  over  this  mountain,  she 
met  a  trold  disguised  as  a  handsome  cavalier.  She 
allowed  herself  to  be  beguiled  by  him,  and  together 
they  strolled  into  a  cave,  which  immediately  closed 
behind  them,  leaving  the  girl  entombed  in  the  moun- 
tain. However,  the  ringing  of  church  bells  broke  the 
spell;  she  was  released  from  her  prison,  and  had  nearly 
reached  home  when  the  bell  rope  broke.  The  spell  came 
back  in  full  force,  and  she  was  dragged  by  magic  back 
to  her  mountain  tomb,  where  she  is  to  this  day  buried. 

I  may  say,  as  the  comforting  guide  book  says  of 
Bishop  Pontoppidan's  monstrous  sea  serpent  with  a 
back  "an  English  mile  and  a  half  in  circumference," 
that  "there  seems  to  be  no  doubt  that  the  whole  thing 
is  purely  an  illusion." 

However,  there  is  a  story  connected  with  the  Rjukan 
Falls,  a  little  farther  on,  which  is  perhaps  a  trifle  less 
mythical.  A  maiden  named  Mary  had  a  lover  named 
Eystein.  On  the  face  of  the  precipice  over  which  the 
Rjukan  plunges  was  a  narrow  path  called  Mari-sti, 
or  "Mary's  Path."  Along  this  path  Mary  went  to 
warn  her  lover  of  danger,  for  enemies  were  plotting 
against  his  life.    He  fled  for  safety,  but  returned  after 


314        THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

many  years  along  the  selfsame  path  to  claim  his  bride. 
In  his  haste  he  ran,  and  slipped  and  plunged  down  into 
the  foaming  abyss  of  the  Rjukan.  The  story  nms  that 
''for  many  years  after  this  a  pale  form,  in  whose  eyes  a 
quiet  madness  spoke,  wandered  daily  on  the  Mari-sti 
and  seemed  to  talk  with  someone  in  the  abyss  below. 
Thus  she  went,  until  a  merciful  voice  summoned  her  to 
joy  and  rest  in  the  arms  of  her  beloved." 

The  Rjukan  Falls  are  still  wonderful  to  behold,  and 
formerly  vied  with  Skjeggedalsfos  for  the  honor  of  being 
the  finest  waterfall  in  Norway,  but  electric  plants  and 
other  industrial  developments  have  robbed  it  of  any 
claim  to  true  greatness,  and  the  Mari-sti  has  become  a 
busy  thoroughfare.  Along  the  way  between  Notodden 
and  the  Rjukan  we  meet  many  peasants  in  the  ancient 
Telemark  costume,  white  stockings,  green  vests,  and 
silver  buttons  being  predominant  features.  At  Hitter- 
dal,  a  village  not  far  from  Notodden,  there  is  an  old 
stave-kirkej  or  stock  church,  dating  from  the  thirteenth 
century.  There  are  very  few  of  these  ancient  churches 
now  left  in  Norway,  as  fire  has  destroyed  most  of  them. 
In  the  last  century  and  a  half  at  least  forty  Norwegian 
churches  have  been  struck  by  lightning  and  destroyed, 
and  of  course  Ughtning  is  only  one  method  out  of  many 
of  setting  fire  to  a  church. 

The  finest  example  of  a  medieval  stave-kirke  is  at 
Borgund  in  the  Valdres  district.  It  is  built  of  logs  of 
timber  and  the  roof  is  arranged  in  several  tiers  like  a 
pagoda.  The  walls  are  shingled  with  pieces  of  wood  cut 
into  the  shape  of  the  scales  of  a  fish,  and  the  many  pin- 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  315 

nacles  and  gables  are  surmounted  by  the  most  curious 
wooden  gargoyle  dragons,  pointing  their  tongues  sky- 
ward. 

Returning  to  Ulefos  we  are  within  a  few  miles  of 
Skien.  Skien  is  in  itself  a  dull,  brick  and  stone  town, 
devoted  largely  to  the  wood-pulp  industry,  but  its  honor 
of  being  the  birthplace  of  Norway's  greatest  literary 
genius  is  enough  distinction  for  one  town. 

Here  Henrik  Ibsen  was  bom  on  March  20,  1828. 
This  great  genius,  the  first  to  raise  Norwegian  literature 
to  a  standard  as  high  as  anything  in  all  Europe,  was 
strangely  slow  in  discovering  his  talent.  For  seven 
dreary  years,  "which  set  their  mark  upon  his  spirit," 
he  was  apprenticed  to  an  apothecary  in  Grimstad.  One 
of  his  companions  says  of  him  during  this  period  that 
he  "walked  about  Grimstad  like  a  mystery  sealed  with 
seven  seals."  He  hved  for  awhile  a  most  precarious, 
hand-to-mouth  existence  as  a  Christiania  journalist. 
Then  he  became  stage  poet  at  the  Bergen  theater  and 
studied  the  drama  at  Copenhagen  and  at  Dresden.  He 
wrote  some  poems,  which  began  to  earn  for  him  a  wide 
reputation.  But  soon  his  Bergen  theater  failed;  he 
applied  for  a  poet's  pension  at  Christiania  and  was 
refused,  though  one  was  at  the  same  time  granted  to 
Bjornson.  Sick  and  discouraged  and  fighting  against 
poverty,  and  above  all  burning  with  bitterest  rage,  he 
went  to  Berlin  and  Trieste  and  then  to  Rome. 

In  this  tempestuous  mood  he  wrote  at  Rome  a  poem 
called  Brand  in  which  he  let  himself  go  and  poured  out 
his  bitterness  against  his  native  land.     Brand  was  a 


3i6        THE   CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

Norwegian  priest  who  tried  to  live  like  Christ  and 
"was  snubbed  and  hounded  by  his  latitudinarian  com- 
panions." It  was  a  magnificent  poem,  and  verily  Nor- 
way must  have  trembled  at  its  ferocity,  for  in  Brand's 
"latitudinarian  companions"  the  poet  had  typified  the 
current  religious  and  moral  sentiment  of  his  native  land. 

Soon  he  wrote  the  dramatic  satire  Peer  Gynt,  in  which 
the  hero  typified  Ibsen's  conception  of  Norwegian  ego- 
tism, vacillation,  and  luke-warmness.  He  commenced 
this  splendid  work  in  all  the  fiery  anger  with  which  he 
had  written  Brandy  but  in  spite  of  himself  he  soon  for- 
got his  anger  and  developed  the  great  piece  of  litera- 
ture which  critics  say  is  as  fine  as  anything  produced  in 
the  nineteenth  century. 

Four  years  later  he  did  receive  a  poet's  pension,  for 
his  country  could  not  longer  ignore  his  genius 

He  had  phenomenal  success  in  many  lines,  but  finally 
turned  his  attention  to  simple  conversational  drama. 
He  is  one  of  the  most  widely  discussed  dramatists  of 
recent  times.  He  fearlessly,  almost  morbidly,  braved 
convention,  and  was  venomously  attacked  as  an  im- 
moral writer.  Hjalmar  Ekdal,  the  main  character  of 
one  of  his  plays,  The  Wild  Duck,  has  earned  the  name 
of  being  the  most  abominable  villain  in  all  the  world's 
drama.  Certainly  Ibsen  revelled  in  the  sins  and  faults 
of  society,  but  only,  as  he  himself  says,  as  a  diagnosist, 
and  not,  like  Tolstoy,  as  a  healer. 

On  his  seventieth  birthday  the  great  dramatist  was 
received  with  the  highest  marks  of  honor  by  the  native 
land  which  he  had  so  bitterly  abused,  and  it  must  have 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  317 

been  soothing  to  his  fiery,  cynical  nature  to  thus  come 
into  his  own  during  the  last  days  of  his  Hfe. 

Henrik  Ibsen,  and  all  Norwegian  literature  in  general, 
should  be  of  especial  interest  to  Americans,  for  it  bears 
the  same  relation  to  Danish  literature  that  our  own 
bears  to  EngHsh.  It  is  only  within  the  last  century  that 
Norway  has  had  any  real,  national  Kterature.  The 
great  Holberg,  who  lived  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
was  really  a  Norwegian,  but  he  hardly  thought  of  his 
own  country  as  being  a  fitting  home  for  literature,  and 
he  devoted  his  talents  to  Denmark,  and  is  generally  re- 
garded as  a  Dane. 

You  will  be  ready  now  to  make  your  way  to  Chris- 
tiansand  and  then  up  this  most  peaceful  of  dais  to 
Brevik.  On  the  way  you  will  see  many  country  scenes, 
becoming  more  and  more  unconsciously  primitive  and 
rustic  as  you  leave  the  outside  world  behind.  You  will 
see  swarms  of  children  along  the  way,  or  should  I  say 
"prides"  or  "nides"  of  them?  At  any  rate,  there  is  no 
race  suicide  in  rural  Norway.  These  children  are  now 
in  the  midst  of  their  sunomer  holidays,  which  for  many 
of  them  last  nine  months  in  the  year.  Education  is 
compulsory  from  the  ages  of  seven  to  fourteen  for  every 
child  in  Norway,  but  many  of  the  farms,  particulary  in 
the  lonely  Saetersdal,  are  so  far  apart  that  it  would  be 
impossible  to  maintain  any  regular  public-school  sys- 
tem. Accordingly  itinerant  schoolmasters  must  travel 
over  the  length  and  breadth  of  Norway,  imparting  in- 
struction to  every  child  within  the  specified  ages,  for  at 
least  twelve  weeks  in  the  year.     Sometimes  he  must 


3i8         THE  CHARM  OF  SCANDINAVIA 

devote  his  twelve  weeks  to  a  single  child  or  a  single 
family,  and  in  this  case  he  becomes  the  farmer's  guest. 
Sometimes  two  or  three  neighboring  farmers  combine 
and  appoint  one  house  as  the  common  schoolhouse  and 
the  home  of  the  itinerant  pedagog.  The  Norwegian 
school-teacher's  life  is  thus  one  of  pleasurable  variety. 
Very  often  the  farmer's  grown-up  daughter  assists  the 
teacher  in  his  labors,  and  many  a  tender  passage  occurs 
between  them  while  the  children  are  studying  and  the 
fond,  hoping  mother  peeks  through  the  crack  of  the  door. 
As  I  have  said  before,  Saetersdal  is  the  most  charm- 
ingly peaceful  spot  in  all  Norway.  There  is  nothing 
strenuous  about  the  scenery  or  the  life.  Both  continue 
as  they  have  continued  for  ages  and  as  they  will  con- 
tinue for  ages  to  come,  imless  the  ubiquitous  railway 
finds  its  way  here.  The  cares  of  life  for  these  peasants 
are  reduced  to  a  minimiun.  No  problems  perplex  them. 
Perhaps  their  simple  minds  are  hardly  capable  of  being 
perplexed,  but  they  live  a  calm.  God-fearing,  happy  Ufe. 
While  their  fellow  countrymen  in  the  towns  are  wrest- 
ling year  in  and  year  out  with  problems,  they  scarcely 
know  what  the  word  means.  Perhaps  you  think  this  is 
a  deplorable  mental  stagnation,  but  you  would  not  and 
could  not  think  so  if  you  saw  the  people.  They  are 
noble  and  generous  and  honest  and  good,  and  as  long 
as  they  possess  these  quaUties  they  certainly  do  not 
need  problems.  These  fine  Norwegian  peasants  have 
done  as  much  as  all  the  fjords  and  moimtains  and 
waterfalls  and  valleys  to  fill  me  with  the  charm  of 
Norway. 


NORWAY  AND  DENMARK  319 

I  had  intended  to  visit  the  "Sand  Hills  of  Jutland" 
and  to  write  to  you  about  them,  but  after  all  they  are 
just  what  Hans  Christian  Andersen  called  them,  sand 
hills,  and,  charming  as  some  parts  of  Jutland  doubtless 
are,  I  fear  it  would  be  an  anticlimax  to  the  varied  glories 
of  Norway.  Denmark  would  not  have  so  much  interest 
for  a  lover  of  Norway  were  it  not  for  the  historical  asso- 
ciations inseparably  linking  the  two  countries  together, 
so  I  base  my  strongest  plea  on  the  land  of  the  fjord. 
You  have  been  very  obliging,  Judicia,  in  performing 
these  sudden  chess-metamorphoses  from  your  natural 
queenliness  to  knighthood  and  castlehood  and  bishop- 
hood  (I  have  never  reduced  you  to  the  rank  of  a  pawn), 
as  the  nature  of  your  imaginary  move  might  demand. 
However,  I  will  refrain  from  further  compliments,  lest 
you  should  think  I  am  trying  to  bribe  you. 

Trusting  Ihat  the  charm  of  Norway  will  take  posses- 
sion of  you  as  it  has  of  me,  I  await  your  Judicia-1  de- 
cision. 

Yours  hopefully, 
Aylmer. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Abo,  123, 128,  129,  134,  139,  141 

Castle  of,  135 

Marketing  in,  137 
Absalon,  Bishop,  188,  189 
Alexander  II,  170 
Alexius,  Emperor,  282 
Alfvesta,  4,  7 
Almenningen,  217 
Ambassador  Long  Legs,  103,  104 
Amimdsen,  263 

Andersen,  Hans  Christian,  204,  207 
Atterdag,  Valdemar,  105,  210 
Aurora  Borealis,  59 

Baltic,  129 

Bellman,  118 

Bennett,  266,  267 

Bergen,  273,  276 

Bemadotte,  Prince,  68 

Birchlegs,  281 

Birger,  Jarl,  70 

Birgitta,  71,  98 

Bishop  Absalon,  188,  189 

Bishop  Henrik,  140 

Bishop  Ulphilas,  86 

Bjomsen,  Bjomstjeme,  291,  292 

Bohus,  112 

Bothnia,  Gulf  of,  130 

Boyesen,  Hjalmar,  238 

Brahe,  Ebba,  83,  84 

Bremer,  Frederika,  119 

Bull,  Ole,  27s 

Bye,  Fru,  268 

Canon  Wieselgren,  29 

Canute,  183 

Cederstrom,  115 

Charles  XI,  16 

Charles  XII,  17,  69,  75,  78,  115 

Christian  II,  37,  38 


Christian  IV,  191 
Christiania,  257 

Holmenkollen,  258 

Liquor  Stores,  272 

Winter  Sports,  258 
Christmas  Day,  1520,  42 
Codex  Argenteus,  50,  87,  115 
Copenhagen,  177 

Frue  Kirke,  190 

Grand  Hotel,  185 

Pillar  of  Shame,  195 

Promenade,  192 

Raadhus,  189 

Taxameters,  184 

Thorvaldsen  Museum,  202 

Tivoli,  196 

Vesterbrogade,  186 

Dal,  34 

Dalecarlia,  20,  S3y  34,  35,  40,  43 

Dalen,  312 
Djupvand,  290 
Domaas,  295 
Dovre,  296 
Drottningholm,  82 
DuChaillu,  263 

Edelfelt,  135 

Elfsson,  Sven,  and  wife,  41 
Eric,  XI,  124 
Ericsson,  John,  78 

Finland, 
Art,  157 

Bathing  Customs,  148 
Bear  Hunt,  161 
"Church  Boat,"  160 
Coffee,  155 
Coinage,  126,  155 
Education,  166 


324 


INDEX 


Finland,  continued 

Four  Estates  in,  i66 

Lakes,  143 

Railway  Restaurants,  155 

Russia's  Domination  of,  126 

Suffrage  in,  164 

Trains,  153 

Wedding,  149 
Fosterbrodralag,  loi 
Frederick  VIII,  196 
Frederiksborg,  208 
Fray,  89 

Geiranger  Fjord,  286,  288 

Gilchrist,  Harold,  242 

Glipping,  Erik,  210 

Gogstad  Ship,  269 

Gorm,  183 

Gota,  Canal,  94,  96,  100 

Gothenburg,  93,  97,  100 

Goths  and  Vandals,  8 

Gotland,  8,  102,  108,  no 

Grieg,  27s 

Gudbrandsdal,  290 

Gulf  of  Bothnia,  130 

Gustavus  Adolphus,  69,  73,  75,  83, 

86,98 
Gustavus  Vasa,  37,  40,  42,  44,  50, 

73,  75,  88,  90,  97,  98,  140 
Gyda,  240,  241 

Haakon  Haakonsson,  283 
Haakon,  King,  245,  247 
Haakon  Sverresson,  283 
Haakon  VII,  260,  309 
Half  dan  the  Swarthy,  221 
Hamlet,  211,  212 
Hammerfest,  304,  305 
Hango,  134 
Hanseatic  House,  277 
Haparanda,  154 
Harald  Bluetooth,  182,  183 
Harald  Fairhair,  221,  240,  244 
Harald  Hardruler,  264 
Hardanger,  289,  307,  308,  309 
Hasting,  239,  249 


Helsingfors,  128, 134, 150, 163, 168, 

169 
Henrik,  Bishop,  140 
Honefos,  273 
Homvik  Bay,  305 
Hospitset,  253,  254 

Ibsen,  311,  315,  317 
Iron  Mines,  60 
Isala,  41 

Jarl  Birger,  70 
Jungfrutomet,  106 
Jutland,  319 

Kalevala,  145,  149,  172 
Katherine,  Queen,  140 
Kattegat,  201 
Kiruna,  46,  56,  59,  60,  61 
Kjoge,  181 

Lapland,  46,  50 

Lapps,  66 

Larsson,  Carl,  116 

Leijonhufvred,  Ebba,  97 

Lemmings,  298 

Lind,  Jenny,  121 

Linnaeus,  29,  76,  88 

Littlegirl,  Eystein,  281 

Lodingen,  230 

Loen,  299 

Lofotens,  218,  226 

Longfellow,  Henry  W.,  118,  145 

Louis  XIV,  16 

Lulea,  62,  107,  154,  237 

Luther,  73 

Maelstrom,  225 
Magnus,  70] 
Magnus  Barefoot,  242 
Majstang,  107 
Mansdotter,  Karin,  140 
Marok,  289 
Matthias,  Bishop,  38 
Molde,  290,  291,  293 


INDEX 


32s 


Mounds  of  Odin,  Thor  and  Frey,  89 
Mtiller,  Max,  172 

Narvik,  61,  62 

Hotel,  23s 

Iron, 231 

Shops,  234 

Temperature,  220 
Nillson,  Christine,  121 
Nobel,  121 
Norrland,  9 
North  Cape,  305 
Notodden,  313 

Odda,  311 

Odense,  204 

Odin,  89,  245 

Olaf,  St.,  71,  224,  252,  264 

Oscar,  King,  15 

Oslo,  264 

Oxenstjema,  Axel,  74 

Peasants'  Independence,  10 
Plowpenny,  Erik,  210 
Polcirkeln,  54 
Prince  Bemadotte,  68 

Rabbing,  Lindom,  39 
Riksgransen,  7 
Rime,  51,  66 
Rjukan  Falls,  314 
Romsdalshorn,  293 
Roskilde,  182 
Riigen,  2 
Rimeberg,  172 
Russia,  125 
Domination  of  Finland,  126 

Saetersdal,  285,  303,  308 
Sampo,  132 
Sassnitz,  2 
Scandinavia/  8 
Sigtima,  82 
Skager-Rack,  201 
Skansen,  53 
Skokloster,  82,  114 


Smith,  Harald,  262 

Sognefjord,  288,  300,  301 

Steyper,  Peter,  283 

St.  Nicholas,  Church  of,  171 

St.  Nikolaus,  no 

Stockholm,  13,23,33,38,69,81,107 

"Automatic  City,"  The,  23 

"Blood  Path,"  38 

Great  Lift,  18 
Stoddard,  John  L.,  266,  306 
Suffrage,  164 
Suomi,  143 
Svealand,  9 
Sverresborg,  280 
Sweden, 

Art,  114 

Church  Life,  21 

Farm  Statistics,  25 

Fires  and  Insurance,  30 

Honesty,  95 

Independence  Day,  36 

Lakes,  92,  96 

Language,  49 

Lavishness,  6 

Parliament,  18 

Politeness,  89 

Railway  Restaurant,  4 

Sleeping  Cars  and  Fares,  7 

Smorgasbord,  i,  $,  94 

Stoves,  27 

Temperance  in,  28 

Tips,  49 

Trains,  46,  49 

Unified  Cattle,  25 
Swedenborg,  72,  88 
Sweyn  Forkbeard,  183 

Tammerfors,  153,  156 
Cathedral,  157 
The  "Manchester"  of  Finland, 

157 
Taylor,  Bayard,  56,  59 
Tegn6r,  118 
Thangbrand,  222 
Thirteen  Nations,  85 
Thirty  Years'  War,  74,  83,  98,  115 


326 


INDEX 


Thomas,  Hon.  W.  W.,  10,31,47, 119 

Thor,  89 

Thorvaldsen,  Bertel,  202,  203 

Thyra,  209 

Torg's  Hat,  218,  219 

Trelleborg,  2,  7 

Trollhatten,  99 

Trondhjcm,  214,  215,  217,  237 

Cathedral,  250 
Tryggvesson,  Olaf,  209,  221,  223, 
238,  243,  254 

Ulea,  151 

Ulphilas,  Bishop,  86 
Upsala,  50,  84,  103 

Cathedral,  88,  139 

Gamla  Upsala,  88 

University  of,  8$ 


Valdemar,  180 

Vanniman,  307 

Venera,  Lake,  96 

Vettem,  Lake,  97 

Viborg,  134 

Visby,  102,  108,110 

Von  Heidenstam,  96,  116 

Voss,  273 

Vreta  Klostenkyrka,  97 

Wainemann,  Paul,  147 
Wamemunde,  178,  181 
Wellamo,  131,  132 
Wellman,  307 
Wieselgren,  Canon,  29 

Young,  Ernest,  125,  138,  167 


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